Down to the Bone
by James.Bean
Summary: They still had one advantage though; Walkers weren't that good at predicting suicide charges. If there's a better term for venturing back into Atlanta with the goal of rescuing one handcuffed Merle Dixon from a rooftop. Well, Cal was pretty sure she didn't want to hear it.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters associated with the franchise.**

'You found yourself a new sensation  
But baby, it's a jungle out there  
The ones you counted on are all but gone  
Baby, it's a jungle out there…'

 **\- People In Planes. Last Man Standing.**

-TWD-

For as long as Cal could remember she had always been good at running.

Way back when; before the world had gone well and truly to shit. It was just something that she did, that she enjoyed doing. Something that let her forget who she was. If only for a moment.

That was back then. That was before.

 **Before.**

Before when things had been good, even if at the time they didn't seem like they were. Back before, when the dead didn't just suddenly get back up and start _'eating'_ anything and anyone in close proximity. Back when things were normal and all was right with her world.

That was back then. That was before.

Now though, now, she finds herself running again. Only this time she isn't running to pass the time or because she enjoys doing it. No, this time Cal finds herself running from something else entirely. Something that even her darkest nightmares she couldn't have even begun to imagine. Cal finds herself running from the new world. Something that just a few short weeks ago she would never have believed to have been real. Something that she doesn't want to be real.

But it is.

* * *

She can hear her ragged breathing and the heavy slap of her booted feet against the sidewalk. Every sound she makes appears amplified to her ears. The smallest of noises setting her on edge.

Her rucksack is banging against the small of her back and she grimaces with every stride she takes. She has to continue though, to push on, she cannot afford to stop even whilst her legs are turning to jelly and that ever present stitch in her side is becoming almost too unbearable to keep on.

She quickly braces herself as she trips over seemingly nothing; collapsing heavily onto the sidewalk. Her hands take the full brunt of the impact, clenches her teeth together stop herself from crying out, feels the jarring deep within her bones.

 _This was real. This was real. This wasn't a nightmare._

She breathes out the mantra over and over, turning onto her side watches almost transfixed as her breath condenses in front of her in the cool twilight air. The sidewalk feels cool against the side of her left cheek. She wants to get back up, somewhere deep down in her knows that she has to. But she can't seem to move. It's like her whole body is stuck in quicksand. Her mind feels foggy as though she's not quite there. But she is as she can feel the concrete under her fingertips, can feel the grainy texture and dust from the floor sticking to her face.

She has to calm down, has to calm her breathing and slow her racing heart. So she focuses on the throbbing pain in her head and the dusty gritty texture beneath her fingers. That ever present stitch in her side.

 _This was real. This was real._

She was alive when everyone else was…. _dead._

She blinks back the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes, lifts her head off of the floor and tries to take note of her surroundings. To pinpoint where she's at but she's not quite sure. All she knows is that she's far away from the 'safe zone' and that... That is a good thing.

There's destruction all around her. Shattered windows, broken down cars; evidence of looting of fighting, blood and decaying bodies. The ever present groans of the dead permeate the stillness of the evening.

They're close; she can't see them but she can hear the constant sound of their shuffling feet filling the air. It's repetitive. Almost hypnotic.

 _Shuffle, shuffle. Groan_. She fears that she's going mad.

 _Shuffle, shuffle, groan_. She has to be. This can't be real. It can't be. It can't.

 _Shuffle, shuffle, groan._

Her hands clamp over her ears. She draw her knees up into her chest, screws her eyes closed so tightly that a kaleidoscope of colours burst behind her eye lids. She can still hear them though. Can still see the swarm tearing at …

This was real. This was real.

She tries to swallow down the scream trapped in her throat. Sweat trickles from her forehead; down her face and over her chin before pooling in the hollow of her neck. The stickiness covers her body like a second skin. A panicked half strangled sob escapes her mouth and for a moment in the darkness she forgets just where she is.

Just for a moment.

* * *

She finds herself kneeling again but she's not sure how. She can't remember getting up off of the floor. Her hands are resting limply on her knees, her hands she notices are soot covered, blistered and slicked with drying blood.

She wipes them against her jeans but the blood doesn't budge. It's still there, a mocking reminder that she failed. That she's alone, once again.

She takes a deep breath, but she can still smell it. The smell of petrol and grease and something sweet that she can't quite place as the military had rounded them up. All of them; the sick, the old, the young, the dying. It didn't matter. They didn't matter, not anymore. That's what he'd said, that young Army boy. Barely nineteen and leading them to their deaths. But that didn't matter. They were all gonna die. All of them herded up like cattle. The air so thick and heavy that the fumes of the petrol and burning bodies made her dizzy and nauseous. She remembers hearing the shattering of glass and the sound of gunfire.

The explosions and screams echoing all around.

 _Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop. **BANG.** Pop-pop-pop-pop. **BANG. BANG**. Pop-pop-pop-pop. _

Patrick had been fighting, looking for an escape. Telling her to try, to get up, to just _fucking_ move. "Cal? _Callie?"_ A large warm hand on her shoulder, shaking her back into reality. "Snap out of it now. C'mon now snap outta it…" Alice who was suddenly bit; her thin pale arm covered in her own blood and that look of terror, that look that Cal will never forget as Patrick goes to pull the biter off of her. That one look as those wide terrified grey eyes latched onto hers as the swarm of biter's broke through the chain link fence.

All she can see is Alice's little sister Lottie struggling to breathe, hear her hysterical cries as she clutches that small battered teddy in her tiny hands. Tiny hands reaching out for her as smoke began to cover everything in a thick grey blanket.

They thought they'd been safe at the camp. _Safe._ They should have been safe. They should have been. She closes her eyes against the onslaught of images as bile crawls up her throat.

The acid burns her gullet. She gags unable to stop herself. Retching; vomit pours from her mouth splatters across her hands and knees. Her long hair gets in the way, matting the thick brown strands together. Tears pool at the corner of her eyes and she blinks wildly in a futile attempt to hold them back. She imagines her Mama behind her rubbing her back, holding her long hair away. Telling her that all would be well. Except her Mama... Her Mama had been dead for a long time. No point thinking about that now. She shakes away the thought as she staggers to her feet.

Turns to find herself staring at yet another body. Definitely dead. Head caved in. There's nothing left of the skull. She wonders who killed it?

Her. Killed _her_. Not it.

Not an it. It's not an it.

It's a her.

 _Her, her, her._

She wonders what they thought when it happened. Did they think of them as a person when they caved the skull in? Or just a thing? No longer a person, no longer someone who was vibrant and unique, with thoughts and dreams and hopes and fears. No longer them, no longer human.

 _Grey, rotten, bloated. Head caved in._

Just another thing left to rot in the hot Georgian sun along with all the other trash.

Gun fire explodes behind her and she wills herself to move; to run; to just get out of there. The screech of tires and the sporadic shouts of angry scared voices echo behind her as she ducks into an alleyway panting.

The stitch in her side she realises isn't a stitch at all.

Pulling away her hand she notices the fresh coating of warm blood. Her blood. It is here, in this brief stillness that she realises that she's been shot. Sweat pours from her skin, her breath condensing in front of her in the cool night air. She swallows down a moan of pain. The realisation that she has in fact been shot is seemingly lodged in the forefront of her mind. All she can think about, all she can feel is the burning sensation in her side.

Shadows of people run past her hiding place and she bites down her hand hard to stifle any sound. Blood pools in her mouth. The taste is thick on her tongue, it tastes like pennies. Her eyes droop, her head is pounding, she can't quite fight the exhaustion anymore.

She dozes.

* * *

Hours pass before she feels herself jerking back into her body and with that she finally allows herself to move.

The streets are quiet. It's been a while since they were. _A week?_ No that doesn't seem right. _Two weeks?_ She bites her thumbnail as she tries to think. But she has trouble remembering; she's lost all track of time since the things started to descend into chaos. The streets are quiet once again.

There's no more looting, no more rioting or fighting. No more terrified cries of women and children.

It's eerily quiet.

The sudden barking of dog in the distance makes her jump, her hand automatically going to the small knife strapped to her thigh. The slap of her boots echoes loudly across the street. Disturbing the unsettling peace. She stops again panting, presses her hand against the bullet hole in her side, she knows she has to fix this. Has to stop the bleeding, close up and clean the wound before infection sets in. She knows this. If only she could focus.

She glances upwards and watches as the clouds part momentarily allowing the stars to shine gloriously down.

Cal hears the helicopters before she sees them. High above like small insects; moving towards the centre of the city. _Evacuation…?_ She thinks. Shakes her head at her foolishness. No, no that ain't right. It was too late for that. Not evacuation. The bright flashes light up the sky and she stands still watching as the bombs start to drop.

No not evacuation, more like extermination.

She's got a good vantage point to the city. Bombs are obliterating everything in their path, fires burning everywhere. Cleansing everything in its wake. It reminds her of the 4th of July and even further back when to a memory that she had long forgotten. Back when she was nine years old watching their neighbours home burn down to the ground.

 _His Mama's still in there; she'd heard someone say. Probably drunk as usual. Someone else had said._

 _She could still feel the heat from the fire on her face from where she was stood. Scrawny Daryl stood to the side of her watching his house burn down along with his Ma. "I'm sorry about your Mama Daryl…" She had whispered out her hand briefly reaching out to touch his before he jerked away. He looked at her then eyes hooded. But even beneath the guarded look she can see his pain, his sadness. Ca_ _n see tear tracks streaked on his soot covered face even after he's tried to wipe them away. She bites her tongue from saying anything more. Josie Dixon might not have been the best Mama in the world; but she was still his Mama._

 _He nods, shifts his feet before he breaks eye contact and walks away._

 _She opens her mouth to call him back, wants to ask him where he'll go; but he's swallowed up in the crowd of people before she even call his name._

The highway she knows is behind her. If she can reach that she thinks then maybe she has a chance of making it.

She begins to run.

Cal remembers that she had always been good at running. Way back when, before the world went to shit. It was just something she did. It was something that she enjoyed doing back when things were good. When things were normal and all was right with her world.

She lets out a small wheezy laugh, she's getting so sick of running now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters associated with the franchise.**

 _I find the map and draw a straight line,_

 _Over rivers, farms, and state lines_

 _The distance from 'here' to where you'd be_

 _It's only finger-lengths that I see._

 ** _\- Snow Patrol. Set Fire to the Third Bar._ **

_-TWD-_

If Cal was truly honest with herself she wished that she'd started out with a better plan. A plan that was 100% fool proof with how to deal with the end of the world.

See every one thinks that they're prepared for the end. You watch all those horror films and read all those books and you think that you can survive, that you'd be prepared to deal with the crap that gets thrown your way. The truth is, no one ever is. No one actually plans for this kind of shit to happen but Cal wishes that she had. Or at the very least had a plan that was a little more solid than just getting away.

At first that had been a good plan for that plan had ultimately led her away from Atlanta and away from the dead but it was also that very same plan that had lead her onto the I-85. The I-85 however had turned out to be nothing more than a graveyard full of cars and biters. Biters who were hell bent on making her their next meal. So, like most of her plans, she'd adapted, turned tail and legged it out of there. Leading her to where she was right now; that being a sweaty, doubled over mess who was desperately trying to catch her breath from out running another biter. All the while trying not to pass out from sheer exhaustion in the process.

See, that was a much better plan. She wheezes out a laugh at that little voice in her head.

She glances up, breathing deeply. Glad that she had finally stopped wheezing. Notices what appears to be a faint trail of smoke drifting skywards from some place high in the hills surrounding her. She shields her eyes and tries to get a better view of where the smoke is coming from but can't quite can an exact fix. It could be a camp, she thinks and then snorts out loud. _Could be a camp?_ It's not like biters had suddenly learnt how to start fires.

She pulls out her water bottle, taking a small sip. It's not enough to quench her thirst but she has to ration her water the best she can. Tries to think of the best thing to do. _A camp._ A camp meant people, shelter and more importantly food and water. She knows she's running low on provisions. The food would last a couple of days at best, her water however. She needs to think wiping the sweat from her brow. The sun is already fierce and it's barely even midday.

She could ask if they had anything going spare and if there wasn't, maybe a spot to bunk down for the night without having to worry about dangers lurking in the dark. She knows she's tired, no she's worn out. Tiredness led to mistakes. She pauses undecided whether she should check the camp out or keep on going.

 _Yeah but Cal remember, a camp doesn't mean safety. You don't know what kinda people these are._ _You know what happened in Atlanta_. She frowns at that wayward thought.

Since Atlanta, ever since that fateful decision of hers to go to the 'safe zone' and the cluster fuck that's had turned out to be. Cal had begun doubting herself and her decisions. Questioning every little thought that entered her head.

This camp could be a good thing though she reasons with herself. If she can stay, even if it were just for the night, she could clear her head before moving on. A good night sleep can make all the difference. She's made her decision but erring on the side of caution decides to scout on ahead and check it out from the cover of the trees. If she didn't like what she saw, she could always turn around and carry on and no one would be the wiser she had ever been there.

The smoke is coming from a remote spot tucked so far out of sight far and away from the main road that it's strategic in it's position. Setting up a camp this far back had been well thought out. Up high with a clear sight to the main road and surrounding areas, well covered with trees and near water if her ears weren't playing tricks on her. As she makes her approach she's certain that if it hadn't been for the smoke. Well she would have never have known that the camp had been there at all.

She can hear talking up ahead. Her hand is resting loosely over her knife as she follows the sound but not before tripping over wires and cans hidden in the brush that make such a goddamn awful racket. She automatically stops and cringes. Pauses, listening out for the sounds of the undead. The chatter that she can hear also abruptly stops and with that she takes a nervous breath before she stumbles out of the woods; sweaty and slightly disorientated.

At first she's not quite sure where to look, for there are people, cars every which way she turns.

A peculiar old RV is parked in the centre of camp; a good vantage point, she notes for it has a clear sight of the entirety of the camp. On top of the RV; an even more peculiar old man perched under a parasol if the Fisherman's hat and loud Hawaiian shirt is anything to go by. He's one of the first that she notices as he's watching her with those binoculars of his; watching as she trips over her own two feet. She's not sure who's more surprised him or her.

What is a surprise is to see a camp this size, one that was clearly well organised with a number of people milling about. She hadn't seen this many people since Atlanta.

She shakes her head to dislodge that train of thought. Looks around to gather her bearings as people begin to make their way over to her. There's warm pleasant smiles all around with a brief hint of weariness. She's under scrutiny. That much is for certain.

She glances down at her somewhat dishevelled state and chuckles. What a sight she was, hell if Grams could see her now she'd give her a clip around her ear and tell her to go wash up... disgrace that she was. "Hell, if I'da known I'd be in company I'da changed my shirt or somethin'." She coughs, her voice comes out scratchy from lack of use. Uses her best smile, hooks her thumbs in the front of her jean pockets and tries to not to let her nervousness show. She's sure she hears someone chuckle but can't quite pin point where it's at.

She's sweating and this time it has nothing to do with the heat.

* * *

She finds herself becoming momentarily distracted by the laughter of kids as they run past playing tag. It's been a while since she's seen one. Kids that is. Kids that were genuinely happy and healthy and alive. Never mind the four who are smiling and laughing and playing like kids should.

She watches them for a moment, lost in thought as she imagines another little girl with brown hair in messy pigtails, large beaming gap toothed smile, giggling as she chases after them. She turns back to the group and asks if they're taking people in.

"Just for a little while." She says, until she's rested and then she can be on her way. She has no tent, no other provisions than those she carried in her rucksack. A scraggy blanket that she'd scavenged along with her hunting knife and now empty water bottle. A few cans and packets of food and a change of clothes that were in desperate need of a wash and her diminished medical kit.

"You a doctor?" A question from one of the men in the group, she thinks it comes from the man holding the shot gun but isn't sure so she just nods her head.

"That's right." Doesn't miss the looks of relief on some of the faces within the group. Opens up her rucksack to pass out the food, has to quash down the small voice of hers telling her not to for she had fought for that food had almost lost an arm to get it. Passes over a can of peaches and beans, some chicken noodle soup and a shit load of beef jerky that's so tough she's surprised that she has any teeth left after eating it. Her hands still and her breath catches in her throat when she glances at the last remaining item at the bottom of her bag.

The almost mocking stare of the glassy button eyed bear peering back up at her.

She zips her bag up quickly; if the others notice her behaviour they don't say anything, after all everyone has a story to tell. "It's not much." She says handing the tins and packets over to the older grey haired woman who takes them from her with a shy hesitant smile.

"But it ain't nothin' either." The other brunette woman had replied in kind. Whether to the food or her being a doctor she isn't quite sure.

The older gentleman offers her the floor of his RV apologising all the while. It's fit to bursting as is but Cal doesn't complain. She's been on her own for a while now; camping outside with no one to talk to, no one to watch her back. She finds it strange to surrounded by so many people once again. For the time being though she counts her blessings, grateful to think that soon she'll have a roof over her head and the possibility of a warm meal in her belly.

Her stomach growls at the thought.

"The floor will be jus' fine. _Thank_ _you_...?" She trails off sheepishly realising that she doesn't know his name.

"Dale Horvath." He offers her his hand to shake. Firm solid grip. He smiles, a smile that reminds her of her Papaw.

"Callie Olsen. You can call me Cal."

* * *

Getting settled in the RV she catches sight of her reflection in the glass of the window. Takes a while to recognise herself. Large, weary eyes, her matted hair is piled on top of her head in what a few weeks ago have been considered a fashionably messy bun. A few weeks ago. She pauses momentarily. _A few weeks?_ Was that all it was? It had felt so much longer. _Then again_ she thinks _running for your life would do that to you._

Her features are drawn; the familiar _'v_ ' creasing her brow, cheeks are hollowed, gaunt. She looks and feels tired. Far more tired than doing her residency had ever left her feeling. That kind of tired that you can feel deep in your bones. That kind of tired makes you ache. Her teeth tug on skin of her bottom lip whilst she ponders her current situation. This was a good thing right? Safety in numbers. She wants to feel at ease, she wants to feel safe but she isn't there just yet. She remembers feeling safe before and look how that had turned out.

 _But she wants to be. Oh, how she wants to feel safe again._

She jumps at the unexpected call of her name; the thin rubbery skin on her lip tears and with it the familiar taste of copper fills her mouth. There's a small tentative hand on her shoulder as Amy appears suddenly at her side.

"Hey, you ok?" Cal looks down at Amy. It was such an odd question to ask. Wasn't it. Or was that just her? _Was she ok? Were any of them ever going to be ok again?_

She feigns a smile and shrugs out a reply. It not an answer, she knows that but Cal's not quite sure that she can give her one. She's thankful that Amy doesn't push back instead offering to show her around the camp, to help get her bearings. Cal smiles and nods at the suggestion even though she can already feel the beginnings of an encroaching headache at the thought of it.

She quickly grabs her bag from the table and follows dutifully behind the young blonde. All the while watching Amy, watches how she walks, talks and interacts with others. If Cal had to guess she'd put herself a good 10 years older than her. The blonde is a sweet kid though and some small part of her can't help but marvel at the optimism that she still has.

It is here that Cal learns that Amy has an older sister (12 years to be exact) called Andrea who is doing a run to Atlanta. So far they've been gone for four days. It's the longest that they've been away from the main group and it doesn't take a genius to tell that behind that bright smile of Amy's, the younger sibling is worried.

Cal has to give Amy credit though, she's trying so hard to not show how worried she actually is but the way she keeps glancing over her shoulder towards the gravel road leading up to the quarry speaks volumes. As though the blonde teenager is hoping by her sheer will power alone that Andrea and the others would somehow magically appear.

Cal doesn't mention this, it's not her place and in all honesty if the shoe were on the other foot she'd be worried too. She'd only just made it out of Atlanta alive and whole; why would anyone, voluntarily that is, want to go back in? She keeps those thoughts to herself. The kid, was already worried enough, wouldn't do anyone good voicing those concerns out loud.

So she changes topic asks her if Dale's her father and Amy smiles and laughs but it's tinged with sadness and silence. No Dale isn't her father she reads into her expression. She doesn't know if her father is even alive … Cal says no more.

Next there's Lori and Carl Grimes. Mother and son, the brunette who had thanked her for her meagre offering of food earlier. Their eyes are haunted; tight lipped, worn out smiles. They're friendly enough though, smile as they walk past. Lori who asks her if she's settling in alright.

Shane Walsh, ' _I'm_ _in_ _charge_ ' ex-cop, not the father. _"Carl's Daddy didn't make it."_ Is what Amy whispers to her as they move further away from the trio.

Cal glances back at Lori. Lori who's watching Carl doing his sums, Shane who's watching Lori. Not the Daddy, _no,_ but there's a story there.

As though feeling eyes on them Shane looks up. Their eyes lock for a brief moment; the guarded almost defiant look makes Cal break eye contact. Whatever ongoing drama there was, she would steer well clear.

Next the Morales, a small family of four Miranda, Eliza, Louis. One of them is missing though. _Javier_ their Father is in Atlanta.

Then there's Carol and Ed Peletier and their daughter Sophia. She watches Ed warily as he stalks around his family. She knows his type, had seen it all before in her line of work. Carol skittish, eyes downcast and Sophia younger than her years. Ed doesn't shake her hand when she offers it and a small part deep down inside of her is thankful for that.

Jim. A nod, they shake hands. He's stringing cans together and she asks him what he's doing. "Walker traps. They err, they get huh caught in these. Alerts the camp." Ah, so that's what she'd tripped over earlier. Smart thinking.

Jacqui, Glenn, T-Dog – are also on the run to Atlanta. There's a few more people but she doesn't quite catch all their names. Cal's finding this all so surreal, to be surrounded by this many people again. It doesn't feel real. She pinches the webbing between her thumb and forefinger. The sharp pain a reminder that it is.

"Finally there's the Dixon brothers." Amy motions over the other side of the camp in a somewhat dismissive manner.

"The Dixon's?" The question slips from her mouth unchecked before she can stop herself. It's been a long time since she'd heard that name spoken aloud that was. Thinking about it though she really shouldn't be surprised that Daryl or Merle would still be alive. Where Daryl went Merle was sure to follow.

 _'Ain't nobody can kill Merle Dixon lil girl. 'Cept ol' Merle himself.' He'd once proclaimed blowing smoke rings into her face. High as a kite and laughing as always._

Trust her that to run into him at the end of the world. She must have been an awful person in a previous life to have this much shitty luck.

"Yeah, Merle, Daryl and Jed." At that final name Cal stops walking, turns so suddenly that Amy, not paying attention stumbles into her. The sun is in Cal's eyes blinding her and there's that god awful lump in her throat that makes it difficult to swallow. Her skin feels clammy; her gut clenching painfully.

"Jed?" She asks as Amy nods slowly, the blonde confused at the sudden interest. Cal doesn't care though she just needs to know that Jed. That _this_ Jed and _her_ Jed are one and the same. They have to be. They just have to. She doesn't believe in coincidences.

"6'4, my age, muscular build, brown hair, green eyes?" For a moment she think's she's in a dream and has to fight off the urge to pinch herself again.

"Yeah that's right. You know him or something?"

"Or somethin'." She sees the questioning look on the younger girls face. Cal pinches the bridge of her nose. "His name's Olsen not Dixon. He's my brother."

* * *

She finds that's she's been left to her own devices for the time being and with it she begins wondering around the camp, thinking. Thinks about her brother and how he'd be when they see each other. She can't quite picture a happy reunion but the thought is nice whilst it lasts.

Once upon a time they had been close. They were fraternal twins so that close bond well it was to be expected. A long time ago Cal didn't think that their bond would ever be broken, but after what had happened with Cash.

In their formative teenage years; they had grown apart like siblings were prone to do. Cal had thrown herself into her studies and Jed had followed Cash's footsteps and started to follow Merle round like a lost sheep. Cal had never quite seen the attraction. Where Merle went Jed would follow like he was Merle's goddamn personal shadow. She'd asked her Mama once before she'd gotten sick, before her Daddy had gotten mean, _why?_ Why did Jed like Merle? Why didn't Jed talk to her no more? Her Mama said it was because Merle reminded Jed of Cash but back then she couldn't see it. Or maybe she had refused to see it.

Cash was Cash plain and simple. He was their eldest brother and growing up he had been their whole world. Cash was kind and good and decent. He was everything Merle wasn't.

Cal breaks from her train of thought seemingly having found herself stopping just short of the Dixon's camp. It's set a fair ways away from the others of this rag tag group, nothing unusual about it and when she comes to think about it, it's not that much as a surprise. The Dixons never did like to get too acquainted with other people.

From what she's been able to gather the camp had been at the quarry for around two weeks now and the Dixon's plus Jed have been here for a week if not more.

Cal's surprised. Surprised that Merle hasn't robbed them blind yet. She had to bite her thumbnail to avoid saying that aloud though.

She could see from Shane's earlier expression that he didn't like them; not one iota. Daryl was on a hunt. Merle and Jed with the group in Atlanta. Doesn't like her either from the way he's keeping an eye on her right now. He's sat up top the RV, eyes tracking her every movement, shot gun propped at his side. She's not sure what he thinks she's going to do but his attitude towards her was now slightly more frosty than it had been at their first introductions. Thinking about it, his attitude had pretty much changed when he'd been informed as to how she was related to Jed. She can only assume that they'd had a run in at some point.

She wanders idly down to the waters edge, places her unzipped rucksack to the left of her. She pulls out the teddy hidden at the bottom of her bag. Runs a finger over the face, feels the matted fur and the threadbare patches. The nose has long since gone and the stitching of where his mouth used to be had long since unravelled.

He really is a sorry looking thing. He should have been thrown away a long time ago. But she can't. She made a promise to Lottie that she would always look after him.

She swallows down the sadness when she thinks about Lottie. Her loud sigh disturbs the quiet. There's a peacefulness here she thinks glancing across the water with the small tattered bear still held firmly in her hand.

Peaceful.

That is until the sound of a car alarm echoing around the hills breaks her from her train of thought and sends people running.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters associated with the franchise.**

All the insides left cold and grey

There is a place that still remains

It eats the fear it eats the pain

The sweetest price he'll have to pay

The day the whole world went away.

 **\- Nine Inch Nails. The Day the World Went Away**

 _-TWD-_

"So you, Jed and Daryl that's your big plan?"

It didn't take a genius to work out that their current situation was beyond FUBAR. Cal had known that fact last night, back when they'd all been huddled around the campfire, like a more grown up, fucked up version of the Goonies. She'd known it back then, she definitely knew it now and despite all of that she had still found herself volunteering for what she had dubbed the 'suicide mission' that was rescuing Merle from that rooftop.

Rescuing, ha. She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes at that. Merle would never let them hear the end of it if he heard the group calling this a rescue.

"You're putting every single one of us at risk. And for what Merle Dixon? C'mon man, you saw that walker. It was here. It was in camp. You're needed here man. All of you."

"Seems to me like what this place needs is guns."

She can feel Glenn moving to stand beside her. Both of them watching how this plays out. She can understand Shanes rationale. From his point of view the world was black and white, it always had been there was no in-between. The end of the world hadn't changed that. Shane who can't quite understand why Rick's risking not only his life but the lives of three other people, and for Merle Dixon of all people? Merle who wouldn't so much as piss on ya if they were on fire. So yes, she could understand the mans derision and anger. On some level even agreed with him. Though that small omission irked her somewhat.

On the other hand though she could also see Ricks rationale for putting himself out there, into harms way. That was just the kind of guy he was. The kind of guy who always went that extra mile even when he didn't have to. Even when there wouldn't be a thank you for doing so. That was the kind of man Rick was. Watching the two she can see why they worked so well together before all of this shit went down. Shane who saw the world in black and white. Rick who saw the world in colour.

The majority of the discussion flies over the top of her head. She's keeping track of Daryl who was circling them like a caged animal then glances towards Glenn who she notes is shifting ever closer to her and has, what she can only class as a Vulcan death grip on that cap of his to pay any mind to Rick and Shane getting into it once more.

It's here that Cal realises as Glenn shifts once again that she hadn't really spoken much to the young Korean other than the brief discussion that had taken place around the camp fire last night. Glenn's tense but then Rick had just volunteered him to join their little group of merry men and despite his reservations had agreed. She used the term reservations loosely, it wasn't as though he'd had much choice in the matter really.

"Jeez kid, what did yer hat ever do to you?" She has to ask when she realises that his grip hasn't let up. It takes a second for Glenn to realise that she's actually talking to him, if that look is anything to go by.

"What?" He asks before looking down to where her gaze is at. His grip lessens somewhat but not entirely though.

"I'm just nervous, I guess. I mean this is Merle we're talking about and Atlanta is full of walkers. This is bad, this could go bad. This has the potential of going very bad, right?"

Cal takes the red cap from Glenn's hands before securing it snugly on his head, flipping the sun flap up and effectively shutting him up in the process. "Lighten up kid, we're gonna be jus' fine."

"Yeah? And what makes you so sure?"

"Well, as far as I can tell, walkers aren't all tha' good at predicting suicide charges. So there's that at least." Glenn startles unsure if Cal is trying to be funny or not and then laughs. Probably a little too loudly at a quip that isn't all that funny but it dispels some of the tension that's slowly building among them. Cal grins, stops herself from joining in as she watches Glenn's face going red, trying to hold back the chuckles. Which is probably funnier than the joke itself. It brings tears to his eyes together with the attention of those in the group nearest to them.

"Somethin' funny you want to share with us?" Shane throws at the pair. Glenn swallows nervously at the sudden hostile look thrown their way as Cal holds up her hands mockingly surrendering, mimicking his gesture from last night, her smile overly sweet.

"Not a goddamn thing." Is her reply. She catches Jed's eye and for a moment she thinks she sees him smirk. Just for a moment but she's distracted by the semi heated discussion taking place between Lori and Rick and by the time she glances back Jed's already in the van and Daryl is beeping the horn telling them to _'go already.'_

* * *

The way into Atlanta is bumpy in more ways than one.

The atmosphere is strained, tense. Logistically Cal knows that crossing Atlanta, getting through all those walkers would be the comparatively easy part of this rescue. In fact that part of the plan was pretty much a walk in the park. It was the latter part of the plan that had her worried.

No one knew what they would find when they got up on that roof. Merle, if he was still alive, would be pissed that was a certain... and if he wasn't alive. She wants to ask if they've got a plan as to how they're going to deal with the elder Dixon brother. Just having Daryl there wouldn't be enough to soothe those very ruffled feathers of his. Merle, would want payback. Merle, who would be righteous in his anger, who would class himself as being the wronged party. She glances towards Daryl loading his crossbow and then over to Rick before finally resting on her brother.

Jed had barely looked at her since last night and their reunion (if she could even call it that) was every bit as … well lets just say it wouldn't be considered a perfect Kodak moment any time soon.

 _-TWD-_

She find herself thrown into the midst of happy family reunions, surrounded by cries of delight and laughter and tears. She blinks back tears as she witnesses the reunion between the Grimes family, watching the shock and disbelief of someone that they had thought to have been dead, standing there in front of them, alive and whole.

When she looks away, she finally spots Jed, who is stood at the back of the group, seemingly out of place. Feels like she's been punched in the gut when she takes him in.

She isn't sure why it comes as such shock to see him, it shouldn't have. It wasn't as though she'd been blindsided by his sudden appearance. She'd known that he was in Atlanta and would at some point be coming back to camp. But it had been years since she had set eyes on her brother. So, she simply stands there looking over him tracking the subtle differences to his appearance, noting that nothing had drastically changed. His hair was longer than she had ever remembered it being, his beard too. His usual red bandana, the one that had earned him to nickname of Rambo back in their younger years, had been replaced with a black beanie hat.

It seemed though her appearance had blindsided him though, for Jed is just stood there staring at her. There's so many emotions tracking across his face that she can't quite keep up with them. Time seems to stand still for a moment. She's not sure what to do. Should she go to him, wait for him to come to her. _What?_

"Jed." Dale calls out walking over to the younger man, the clap of his hand seems to break the Jed from his trance. From where she's stood Cal can't quite hear what's been said between them, but a look that passes between the pair and Dale glances back at her and encouragingly smiles as Jed's starts walking but it's not towards her. He carries on walking straight past and if his shoulder jolting into her is accidental or deliberate she can't quite tell. It's only here up close that she realises that he's hurt, arm wrapped protectively around his ribs. The bruising around his eye looked angry and his split lip only just beginning to scab over.

He still had that look though. The ever present look of distaste.

That one look he always had every time she came home for the holidays or skyped their grandparents in an effort to keep in touch while she was away at college. The only look she could remember before he disconnected the call anytime Gramps passed her over for the pair to grow up and to hash it out. That same look that made her stop making an effort. That made her stop calling and finally to stop keeping touch. So she'd just stood there, watched him stalk towards his tent and disappears inside,

She looks away from Dale's questioning gaze, smiles a shaky smile to the rest of the group, avoids peoples eyes as she turns on foot and makes her way down to the quarry lake. She'd been foolish to have thought that any reunion between them would have been met with open arms. But it had been a nice thought whilst it had lasted.

 _-TWD-_

"We keep our fires low, just embers right? So we can't be seen from a distance." Even though Shane's talking to Ed his eyes are set firmly on Cal. Cal takes a sip from her beer bottle and has to hold back the smirk at the barely hidden warning behind his words. She'd never been one to pass a challenge, so can't help but stare back into Shane's challenging stare. The way to tell the true measure of a man was by looking him square in the eyes her Gram's always said, but there's something their staring back at her, behind those dark eyes of his that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end.

She's grateful then when Ed answers back and breaking their small staring contest as Shane marches over. Cal knows what kind of man that Shane Walsh that he is. Or thinks he is.

Watches the scene unfold, Carol who goes to move the log from the fire at the command of her shit for brains husband. She can feel her lip curl up at the sight of Ed and she wonders; damn apocalypse and there were still men like that walking the earth. It didn't make a lick of sense. So many good decent people gone and that asshole was still alive. It was none of her business what went on in their relationship, but if there was a way, any way that she could think of, or find. Well she would ensure that Ed Peletier would be due a world of pain sooner rather than later.

Dale, the oldest member looked over the small rag tag group with a frown. "Have any of you given a thought to Daryl? He won't be happy to find out his brother's been left behind."

"I'll tell him," T-Dog had announced to the group. It wasn't a boastful declaration not by a long means. T-Dog sounded genuinely remorseful. It wasn't an easy decision to make but then again what was considered easy nowadays?

"I cuffed him to the roof that's makes it my responsibility." Rick had insisted on that.

"Guys, it's not a competition." Glenn spoke quietly from where he sat beside her the first words that he had contributed to the discussion. "And I don't mean to bring race into it but it might sound better coming from a white guy."

"I did what I did. Hell, if I'm gonna hide from it."

"We could lie," That was Amy sitting beside Andrea head resting against her sisters shoulder and Cal frowns at the suggestion. Lies had a nasty habit of turning around and biting you in the ass sooner or later.

"Or we could tell the truth."

"Jed. Cal. You know them, probably better than anyone here, what do you think?" That's Dale again. He's trying to bring them into the discussion, Cal hadn't missed the looks that had been thrown their way since the group had made it back.

"Are you kidding me? Dale, the whole reason why this situation got so out of hand was down to him and Merle." Andrea's accusing gaze is aimed directly at Jed and it's here in that brief moment that Cal realises that she and Andrea will never be what she would consider "friends".

"Yeah an' what's that supposed to mean, huh? Wha' ya think I did this to myself?" He's gesturing to the injuries he currently sporting, courtesy of mean right hook from Merle. "I tried to stop him, but he had a gun in T-Dogs face. What did ya want me to do? Let him shoot him?" Andrea scoffs back at that.

"You were taking pot shots when we got up there. YOU both brought that swarm down on us."

"Hey guys, maybe we should take a step back. Just chill for a moment." Glenn the voice of reason again but he's quickly ignored as the arguing continues.

"Merle was high before he even got up on that roof, before he even left camp for Christ sake! Why the hell do you think I went with ya'll? Cos it sure as shit wasn't for the company. Hell, y'all have been looking down yer noses at us ever since we showed up. A'right when we feed ya, but I seen the way ya'll look at us. What was it that pig said 'red neck trash?" The scathing look shot towards Shane. Shane who is now smiling back, hands held upwards mockingly surrendering towards the younger man. The sight makes Jed's lip curl.

"Ok can we just take a step back for a moment? All of this arguing is gettin' us nowhere. Jesus. " Cal pauses trying to get a hold on her thoughts, looks towards her brother who is now glaring at the fire as though the thing had just personally insulted him. She just wants him to glance up and look at her. To even acknowledge her presence would mean the world to her right now. "Look, from all accounts Merle was outta line..."

"…Outta line? He was out of control. Something had to be done or he would have gotten us killed."

"Maybe so but it's still not an excuse to handcuff him to the roof and leave him there." She finishes whilst Andrea continues to talk over her.

"If he got left behind it's no one's fault but Merles." The two women stare at each other at the impasse that they find themselves at. Neither one backing down. Cal can just about imagine Merle hooting and hollering at her defence of him.

"And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale interrupts with a raised eyebrow. The scorn evident on his ageing face. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?"

"You ain't gonna have a rational discussion." Cal replies heatedly. This whole conversation was a complete waste of time. There was no point discussing something with people who didn't want to listen. "Is this what you've become? Everyone here's so quick to pass the buck onto someone else?" She asks but none of them seem to be willing to look at her let alone reply. "Christ, I know Merle ain't exactly a saint. He's a racist, a homophobe, hell he's probably every single attribute that ya'll hate in a person, if not more. But he's still a man."

End of the world and she's defending Merle to a bunch of strangers? Then again even if it were the end of the world did anyone (and that included Merle) deserve to be left up on the roof?

"So, what do you suggest?" Ricks calming voice calls across the camp fire. Dulling some of the fire that's raging within her but she's still pissed she can't rightly help it.

"I ain't suggestin' anythin'." She snaps out and then sighs at the look on the good Deputy's face. It wasn't Ricks' fault. None of this sorry mess was. They were all victims of circumstance. "Look …" she takes a deep steadying breath. "All I'm sayin' is to think this through a bit more rationally than you are. We're all gonna have our hands full when Daryl gets back." She stares towards the tent that Jed had just stormed into a frown marring her face.

T-Dog however still looked grim. "Look, I was scared and I ran. I'm not ashamed to admit it."

"We were all scared, we all ran. What's your point?"

He glances towards Andrea then back around the group his gaze finally resting on Cal. "You weren't there. No one saw the lock I put on that door. It's a narrow staircase, a thick chain. No geeks would be able to get through there. No one would be able to bust out through that door. Not that chain, not that padlock."

T-Dog's still looking at her, brown eyes boring into green. "My point is, Dixons alive and he's still up there handcuffed on that roof." Cal gets that feeling in the pit of her stomach at what T-Dog is going to say next. "You're right. That's on us." And with that he got up and left them all by the embers.

The group is unnaturally quiet after T-Dogs abrupt departure and Cal find that she's biting her thumbnail once more. She knew what would be happening in the morning. Could see the decision firmly made on Rick's face even if he didn't know that he had made the decision already.

Guess there was some good in this group after all.

* * *

"I think it be best if Jed stayed here." Cal's brought back to the present at the sound of Ricks' voice and the slowing of the van.

"Not a fuckin' chance man. I ain't staying here guardin' the van like a fuckin' kid." Jed all but spits back at the good deputy.

"Then quit acting like one." Daryl bites out. Up until then he'd been calm, impatient after his initial burst of anger (that was a given) but calm all the same. Even the threats that he made towards T-Dog lacked the fire that they did earlier that day. He's finishing loading his crossbow but his eyes never leave Jed's face. The younger Olsen shifts under his gaze.

"Truth is, I don't know or trust you enough for you to not run off half cocked." Jed scoffs at that and Cal knows that this is going to get out of hand pretty quickly, so goes to intervene.

"And despite what ya think yer in no fit state to be running off anywhere." Gestures towards his ribs. Jed could pretend until the cows came home that he was fine but she could always spot his tells; the way that he pulled on his bottom lip, a rather poor attempt at hiding the fact that he's in pain. If only he wasn't so stubborn and would actually let her look at him. Stubborn as a goddamn mule.

The mottled bruising around his eye looks angry and she can tell by the hitch in his breathing, the way this his arm is wrapped around his side that ribs are troubling him. The doctor in Cal knows that he'll be more of an hindrance than a help. The sister in her just wants to keep his ass outta trouble even if he didn't see it, or want it.

Cal notices the way that Rick's eyebrow raises ever so slightly. He doesn't trust Jed enough that he'd stay of his own volition. Cal sighs, she knows that she'll regret this but the words are out of her mouth before she can take them back, "It's fine I'll stay with him." To stop him from doing something stupid is what she really means. Rick nods runs a hand through his hair. "Besides we need to talk." She shoots a look towards her brother and it wasn't as though she was desperate to see Merle any time soon either.

"Do what you want." Jed spits out, he doesn't sound angry; more resigned at the prospect. The fingers of his right hand are drumming agitatedly against his knee, whilst he avoids her gaze.

"Alright then." The van is at a standstill now. The slamming of the drivers door followed shortly by the screech of the shutters roll back revealing a Glenn and T-Dog waiting for the others to roll out.

"Now if ya'll are done with the heart to heart. Let's go already."

Cal watches all four of the them run off. One final nod from Rick before he turns back around. What had she overheard Shane say back at the camp? Something about having four bullets? Four of them.

She hoped that four really was Ricks lucky number.


	4. Chapter 4

I feel it like it wasn't even close,  
The way it was when you were on our shoulders,  
The way it was when were singing, life is fine as it flutters by  
So go, come alive and let yourself show,  
The way it was when we were growing older,  
The way it was when we were singing, hold on tight you're not alone.

 **-The Lighthouse and the Whaler. Little Vessels.**

It's still early morning. The sun had barely made the midway point as both of the Olsen siblings find themselves to be sat in the back of the van seeking refuge from the fierce Georgian sun. The atmosphere between them is tense, bordering along the lines of unbearable. They'd barely said two words to each other since the group had gone.

Jed had been busy brooding. Cal hadn't minded the silence initially, but that didn't mean that she wanted to sit there for hours on end not saying a word. She had tried to start various conversations but those had been met with non committal grunts or had simply fallen on deaf ears. So instead, she began reciting a list of diseases that had the potential to wipe out the human population. Wonders what strain of a virus this one could be, wonders if the CDC had a cure for it yet? But that train of thought had just ended up depressing her. She she'd switched to humming songs under her breath, counting the leaves on the trees up ahead before finally giving up, closing her eyes to doze.

Startles when Jed suddenly chuckles to himself, disturbing the silence. Cracks one eye open to look at him fully.

"What's so funny?" She breathes out, Jed's leaning out of the van, legs dangling over the edge, swinging back and forth and it reminds her of their childhood. Of them being in a similar position only it wasn't a van they'd be in, it's a treehouse and they're not waiting for the group to get back they're hiding from their Pa.

"Just remembering back when we used to go camping, me, you and Cash. An' that one story about the pie eating contest, shit what was it called...? Ya know the one that made Cash sick ..."

Cal smiles remembering, "The revenge of Lardass Hogan." Laughs out loud at the memory, shit she hadn't thought about that night in such a long time. "Oh man I'd forgotten about that one."

"Christ, I didn' know a guy could go that shade o' green 'fore. Never seen nobody puke as much as Cash did that night neither."

"..A complete and total Barf-A-Rama." Jed and Cal say simultaneously before bursting out into laughter. It's an easy sort of laughter the kind that made the tightly coiled knot in her stomach finally loosen.

"Well, I guess now's the time to come clean and say that I can't rightly take credit for that. Gonna have to thank the genius that is Stephen King."

"No shit?" A quirk of his eyebrow; like Jed didn't know this to be the case. Truth was after Cal had shipped off to college and he'd shipped out. Grams had been mailing him pretty much every single book that Cal had left behind. Including The Body by Stephen King. But he doesn't say this, can't. That wasn't the Olsen way. "And there was me thinking that I had me a smart sister."

"Hey I am smart. Not my fault if you two goofballs had never read a book or watched a decent movie between ya in yer lives." They share a small smile at that and she goes to sit up fully, head resting on the top of her knees as she fully takes her brother in.

"What made you think o' that?"

He shrugs out a reply, grimacing at the movement before turning to look back at her. His face is hard to read and Cal finds herself chewing the inside of her mouth, just waiting for him to talk to her.

"I dunno Cal," He sighs out, "Guess I've just been thinking. Been doing that a lot since all o' this shit went down."

"Ya know that me leaving..." Cal ventures quietly testing the waters. She needs to bring this up, they have to talk this through. Jed has to know that she didn't just abandon him like he thinks she did.

"Hey... remember when you used to draw those treasure maps and hide things for the ol' folks to find?" Cal groans at that particular memory. Not one of her smartest ideas. "Thought it would be good idea to hide the old coots fob watch? But then you went and lost the damn map?"

"How could I forget?" She tries to catch his eye but he's actively avoiding her gaze. Silence prevails once more. Cal sighs again, there was a time when she knew just how to reach her brother. Now though, she realises that she doesn't know her brother well enough to do that. They'd both changed. 10 years would do that.

"Do ya ever think about him?" His sudden question makes her blink at him in surprise.

" _Who?_ Cash?" She asks and he nods finally looking back at her.

"All the time." The mood has turned melancholy and Cal can feel the smile slipping from her face. It's the distance between them that gets to her. He's so close and yet so far. Such an oxymoron.

"... An' for your information I didn't lose that map. Grams did. Ya remember how long Papaw had me digging under the porch until I found it? 6 goddamn months. I had blisters on my blisters and yer didn't even have the courtesy to offer help..." She sniffs out indignantly at that.

"Hey lil sis, yer do the crime yer gotta do the time." They're laughing again once more.

 _-TWD-_

"What about Papaw?" She'd asked later that afternoon when the tension dampened somewhat but Cal's still finds herself working the minefield of what she can, can't and most definitely shouldn't bring up. This is probably one of those subjects but she needs to know if he got out. It's been eating at her for so long.

Jed pauses the idle tapping of his fingers against his knee. He didn't need to say anything, the sudden silence said it all. He wasn't dead, no.

"You left him?"

"Hell Cal, ya know Papaw. Ain't no way he was gonna leave that house voluntarily."

"So, that was that then? He said no, so ya just left him?" She tries to keep her voice calm, she tries to understand but it's Papaw. Papaw who had all but raised them. "How could ya just…?" She trails off when she sees the steely glint in his eye and flex of his jaw. Scuttles back as he jumps up, his rifle, (Papaws rifle she suddenly realises) the rifle that was resting across his lap falling heavily on the floor of the van with a loud thud.

She flinches as he towers over her. He's seething. Eyes wild, he had always been quick to anger. That was the Olsen way. "I left them? _I left them?"_ He spits out at her, the enclosed space makes his voice amplified. _"_ Yer putting that one on me? Where the _fuck_ was you huh? When all this went down? Cos sure as shit you weren't there. So, don't think ya can sit there and judge me. _Fuck you_. I tried. Where the _fuck_ was you?"

Cal pauses, blinks. She wants to tell him to quieten down, that noise attracted walkers. She wants to take her careless words back, to say that she's sorry that she didn't mean for her questioning to come out quite as accusing but she can't. She's too taken aback at Jed's sudden ferocity. She'd forgotten just what Jed's anger felt like.

"I was…" she stops, takes a deep breath tries to stop her voice from quivering. "…I was holding a little girls guts in." That's what she wants to say but she can't quite form the words. Her mouth feels like it's been stuffed full of cotton wool, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth."'…I held a little girls guts in whilst I lied to her face. Told her that she would be just fine. Told her that help was coming while she choked on her own blood." Is what she wants to shout at him. She can still feel the slippery spongey feeling of Lottie's intestine's in her hands.

She can still smell metal and gunpowder in the air as Patrick, her Patrick shot at every fuckin' undead thing there was. Whilst Alice had wailed, a sound that had made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. A sound that she'll never forget. Even though Alice is bit, even though she knows she's dying herself, she still wailed for her little sister whose insides were on the outside whilst she had lied to her face and attempts to put them back in. But she can't say this. She can't. There's that goddamn lump in her throat again. So, big; so fucking big that she feels like she will choke on it.

She slides to the end of the van, jumps down there's no use arguing; goes to walk away.

He scoffs at that.

"Yeah that's right walk away. Go on. You've always been good at that." He spits out at her his tone angry and bitter once again. She pauses, turns to look at him incredulous.

"So, that's what this is all about? End of the goddamn world and you're holding on to that stupid grudge?" But Jed, she knows just doesn't want to hear it. Has never wanted to hear it. Not when she was 18 and certainly not now, 10 years after the fact.

It was always the same with them, one step forward two steps back. She folds her arms in on herself. She can't do this. She can't have this fight not again.

It's funny she thinks as she climbs onto the hood of the cube van. You think that everything would change once the world ends. But it doesn't. All that inconsequential shit is still there. Things carry on just as they always had. The world keeps on turning, the same as it ever did it's only civilisation that doesn't.

She glances up at the sun and then back towards the city and prays that the others would be back soon.

* * *

The unsteady movement in her peripheral vision causes her to look up. Hands shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun.

She couldn't tell who it was but from this distance it looked like a walker the way that thing was stumbling around all over the place. Jed's stood a ways behind her looking through the scope of his rifle. He stills for a moment before calling out; "Christ, it's Merle…" Suddenly he's moving, running past her. Running toward the oldest Dixon brother catching him as Merle stumbles again, pitching forward.

Cal slides off the hood of the van and slowly makes her approach. Looks around for the others. But there's no sign of them, no one else is out there. She glances down spots Merles usual crazed grin but his eyes are wild and glazed and his hand. She has to do a double take at that, for where his hand should have been there was nothing more than a stump … charred and bloody.

Cal can feel bile rising in my throat as she watches the panic take over Jed's face. "Christ Merle, wha' the fuck happened…?" He breathes out lowering him to the ground.

" _'sok, they left me behind. Tried to kill me. Ain't - ain't no one who can kill_ …" He mumbles before his head suddenly slumps forward against Jed's shoulder. Merle's face is slicked with sweat, he's barely breathing and the heat from his skin, the heat that is seeping through Jed's flannel shirt makes him scramble back as though he's been burnt.

"He dead?" Jed's voice catches towards the end an almost imperceptible hiccup. Cal frowns as she reaches forward, pressing two fingers against his pulse point. His pulse is weak, fluttering underneath her fingertips but all she can seem to focus on is Jed's wide eyed gaze.

If she were an awful person, like the person Merle made her out to be, she could say that'd he'd passed. Bury him at the side of the road or leave him to rot in to fierce Georgian sun, like he would undoubtedly do if the shoe were on the other foot. No one would miss Merle Dixon. No one else would mourn him and if they did it wouldn't be for long. His legacy wouldn't be remembered. But Cal catches the look on Jed's face again, takes note of his ashen pallor and the futile attempts at him holding back unshed tears and suddenly she's propelled back 14 years.

 _They're both walking into Cash's room; the smell of vomit and booze so overwhelming that she has to cover her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt. The room is dark, so she pulls on the curtains, the sunlight revealing their elder brother lying near the foot of his bed. Laying in a pool of his own vomit, the_ _tourniquet wrapped around his arm and the needle still in the crook of his elbow. "He dead?"_ _Jed asked, huddling behind her, hand tugging on the sleeve of her shirt crying at the sight of their dead older brother._

"He dead?" He asks again breaking Cal from her small reverie. She glances up at him from her crouched position. "No, not yet." She finds herself leaning forward getting a better look at the stump. Checks his airways. His breathing is rattling and tacky but he's still breathing, just about. There was no way that she'd be giving Merle mouth to mouth. She has to supress a shudder at that. "My medical kit is in my bag. Go grab it for me will ya and I'll see what I can do ..." She gestures towards his stump "… with this."

 _"I won't beg ya, ya hear me. I won't bitch…"_ He's delusional. He could die. He could. He deserved to didn't he? His forehead is clammy to the touch, pale skin, lips tinged blue. His crudely given cauterisation had been taken care of most of the bleeding. It was the second and third degree burns along with the blood loss he'd undoubtedly suffered that were Cal's main cause for concern.

She's mentally reeling off all the things that Merle could die from whilst she rifles through her the kit that Jed had unceremoniously dropped down at the side of her. He's going into Hypovolemic shock she thinks as she searches for something, anything really to help her deal with the mess that she's presented with. Shines a light in eyes watches as the retinas expand before tearing open the packet of alcohol wipes, the smell reminds her of childhood cleaning up scrapped knees and busted lips.

Jed's kneeling down by her side, hands hovering as though he's not quite sure what he needs to do. He's not talking which is worrying Cal more than cleaning up Merles' stump. Jed's just kneeling there and staring at Merle; eyes wide as though he can't quite believe what he's seeing. Cal knows that she needs to keep him busy; so she's asking him to pass things to her. She needs to keep him focused otherwise it wouldn't just be Merle who was going into shock.

The limited supply of antiseptic wipes are filthy by the time she's finished and using the largest bandage she can find she begins wrapping the stump. Merle twitches and moans whilst she secures the bandage with the last of the medical tape and falls back on her haunches. Wipes the sweat from her brow, leaving a trail of blood on her forehead from her filthy hands and looks down at him, thoroughly exhausted. His breathing is tacky but she can't hear the rattle on his chest which was an improvement. He wasn't out of the woods just yet. He could still die. Infection, sepsis. Dehydration. She squints looking up. It wasn't good leaving him out here. He'd already suffered exposure he needed shelter and water.

"Help me lift him to the back of the van will ya?" Cal's not quite sure that Jed heard her until she hears the scuff of his army boots against the gravel of the rail track. Merle is literally dead weight as they lift him up. She can feel her arms straining sees the expression of pain flicker across Jed's face at the pull on his ribs. If she manhandles Merle a bit too roughly whilst they place him into the back of the van she can't bring herself to feel an ounce of remorse.

"He gonna be alright?" Jed asks her then, that faraway look back in his eyes. She watches as he runs a hand over his beard then down to his dog tags.

"For the time being but he needs to keep hydrated, he needs antibiotics to ward off infection. I've got some pain meds for when, _well,_ if he wakes up."

"But he will right." He's looking her straight in the eyes. "He'll wake up?"

Cal opens her mouth to be cut off _"'here's my baby Bro at…?"_ another mumble as Merle's pulled back into his fevered pain filled dream.

"Keep any eye on him. When he wakes try get him to drink." Passes him a lukewarm bottle of water "Tiny sips of water. Keep him warm. I'll be outside keeping an eye out for the others." Green eyes meet green eyes. There's brief look of understanding there before she turns to leave.

"Hey Cal?" She glances back over her shoulder.

"Thanks for…" He gestures to Merle who's still twitching in his unconsciousness; brow beaded with sweat and incoherent mutterings spilling from his gutter trash mouth.

"Think nothing of it." She shrugs and he grins. Cal jumps down from the cube van with a small smile on her face.

It was something and they both knew that.

* * *

From the position of the sun, Cal hazards it to be around 16:00 but she can't quite tell. If Papaw were there he'd be able to tell the time just by the direction of the breeze or some crazy shit like that. But he wasn't and the thought makes her heartache.

She'd ventured away from the van, through the chained fence to see if she could spot any movement coming out of Atlanta. Sweat is trickling down the back of her neck. Hair stuck to her head and the bandana that Jed had leant her offering little protection from the fierce summer sun. Her skin is prickling, its been a long time she's been out without sun block. Probably back when she was a kid, frog catching with her two brothers. She never truly burnt but she'd be able to feel it later.

It was quiet and that felt weird. Atlanta had always been a bustling city, full of people and noise so to see it that quiet, devoid of people (barring the undead) was weird. It made her feel vulnerable and exposed. Cal supposed she could think of a better word to describe the situation; something more apt but weird just about covered it.

Merle had gained consciousness around an hour ago, long enough for Cal (with the help of Jed) to force some Vicodin down his throat along with a few sips water. It wasn't enough to take the pain away completely but it would take the edge off she'd told him before he slipped back into the realms of sleep.

From the murmuring she could hear now Merle was back awake and amiable for once. No yelling, no hollering or swearing vengeance. Cal wonders how long the groups going to be. Surely by now they had to have found that Merle was no longer on that roof? She tries to imagine the sight that they'd have been met with. Blood and lots of it, Merle's severed hand.

The fight for survival was truly a remarkable thing and she wonders if she had been stuck up on the roof. If she had been left with the same choices, what would she have done? What had her Papaw said about a fox stuck in a trap? Given the choice between living or dying a trapped fox would chew its own leg off.

Merle's laughter breaks her train of thought as she slowly makes her way to the back towards the van. She needs to talk to them both, they need to make a decision or come to an agreement on what they should do. The group had been gone too long. Glenn knew how to get in and out of the city. Which made Cal think that they'd run into trouble. They had to have made it to that rooftop by now, even with all the walkers. Were they looking for Merle? Daryl would be, she was certain of it. Daryl may have come across as a hot head but Merle was his only family and he wouldn't leave Merle; not when he knew he was injured and alone.

But this lead her to her current dilemma, did she wait for them to come back or did she go in looking for them? Could she live with herself if any of them were hurt during their search for Merle, who was currently holed up in the back of the cube van. But going in blind, with only her knife and vague direction as to where they might be? That was suicidal at best. What was the better option.

The camp couldn't lose the numbers nor the guns that was a given. There's a prickle of unease as she makes her approach and she can just about make out Jed and Merle's hushed tones.

"These people are depending on us Merle, what yer suggestin'? People are gonna die."

"Save me the bleedin' heart boy. Those people back there don' gi' a shit about the likes o' us. Hell, look at what they did to me."

"Yeah an' they came back fo' ya. There's women and children back there. Jus' think this through."

"I've done enough thinkin' boy. Been stuck up on tha' roof all night, with those geeks tryin' to get to me. Yer either in or yer out, there's no 'between."

She slows her approach, heart suddenly hammering in her chest. She's not sure what she's just overheard but whatever it is, is putting her on edge. She stops short at the sight that greets her. Jed with his head in his hands and Merle, Merle who is now propped up against the side of the van an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. The half filled bottle of Vicodin now empty. He's grinning; high as a kite off of the pain meds.

"What's going on?"

"Well, well if it ain't lil miss sugar tits 'erself." The corner of Merle's mouth quirks upwards before settling into a suggestive leer. "You do this?" He gestures to his wrapped arm that he's now cradling to his chest. Cal can only imagine the pain he's in. To be able to inflict that much damage on yourself a sure testament to how badly he wanted off that roof.

"Yeah, that's right."

"You wrap ol' Merle up good an' propa'. Yah really do love me girly, I've always known it." He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. "All those sultry lil' looks, beggin' for me to show ya a good time."

"Whatever you say Merle." His smile is almost predatory even half delirious and with one hand she knows that he's dangerous.

"See I told Jed not to worry." He crowed out towards the younger Olsen, good arm clapping her brother heavily over his shoulders. "Told him that his sister was too much of a stuck up cunt to die." The grin on his face widening further when he sees the look reflecting back at him. She has to control herself but Merle just knew how to push her buttons.

Merle glances between the pair cackling at the expressions on both their faces.

"C'mon princess where's a hug for your ol' pal Merle?" He moves forward swaying as she pushes him back. He smells of sweat and blood and dirt.

"Say ya know where my baby bro's at…?" The sudden clarity in his eyes, throws her for a second. The same shade of blue as Daryl's.

"Yeah, he's in town looking for your sorry ass."

"Officer friendly with him too?"

"Rick? Yeah he's with him." Cal trails off looks over to Jed, silently questioning him, _what the fuck was going on?_

"Shame that. Would've loved to o' seen their faces."

Her eyes snap back to his face upon hearing that. "Seen their faces for what?" Her gut clenches and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end.

"Hey Merle…" That cackling is beginning to grate on her nerves. "See their faces for what?" But Merle's glancing over her shoulder and as she turns to see what he's looking at; she turns just in time to see Merle swinging the butt of Jed's rifle into the side of her head.

"Merle! Wha' the fuck!" She can just make out the blur of Jed's face hovering above her but she can't quite seem to focus.

"Ya didn't have in ya. Hell, I'm just makin' this a whole lot easier on ya boy." Is the last thing she hears before darkness takes over.


	5. Chapter 5

'The seed needs the water  
Before it grows out of the ground  
But it just keeps on getting hard  
And the hunger more profound  
Well I know there can come tears from the eye  
But they may as well be in vain  
Even though  
I know these tears come with pain  
Even so  
And just the same.'

 **\- Make it Rain. Ed Sheeran.**

 _"_ Hey Cal? Callie...?" Cal wakes at the sound of her small voice, listens as the door closes and small tentative footsteps approach before finally stopping next to her head. Cracks open an eye to meet the grey eyes of a 7 year old peering down at her.

"What is it Lottie?" She asks noting that the sun had barely risen and that Lottie should be fast asleep. Feels the crick in her neck and shoulders as she goes to sit up from the uncompromising position that's she been sleeping in. Checks her watch its barely even 5 in the morning, not that time really mattered anymore.

"It's Alice..." There's a barley hidden catch in the small girls voice that makes Cal take notice, can see Lottie's bottom lip quivering. "'Trick said she's not doing so good." She mumbles that whilst looking down at her shoes, scuffing her feet as she says this, her teddy clutched fiercely in her hands. Cal rubs her eyes and lets out a long quiet sigh.

"Ok kiddo, I'll go take a look. Why don't you stay here, yeah? Have a look in my bag, I think there's some Graham crackers and Gatorade in there." Lottie beams at that as Cal goes to stand up, letting out a large yawn and stretching her hands high above her head. Revels in hearing the familiar clicks of her bones; working out kinks.

Ruffles Lottie's pigtails as she passes and grins as the youngster shrugs away from the offending hand whilst rifling through her backpack.

She closes the office door behind her and takes a deep breath, scrapes her hair up into a high ponytail before making her way towards the office that Alice had been segregated to last night. They'd thought it be for the best, they weren't sure when Alice would turn and they didn't want Lottie to see that happening. There was so many things that she had seen on their out from the 'safe zone' but seeing her older sister turn? That wasn't something that Cal would want Lottie to see. It wasn't something that she wanted the small girl to remember her sister by.

Cal wasn't entirely sure how they'd made it out of the safe zone and away from being caught up in the complete and utter chaos that was downtown Atlanta. But they had, by some small miracle they had. Which was how they'd ended up here, hunkered down in a looted office. There was only so far they could travel with a small child and an infected in tow.

So after she and Patrick had checked it out to make sure that there were no surprises lurking they all ventured in, shoved an old book case in front of the door and had taken turns on watch. Luckily, the night had gone undisturbed.

* * *

Cal finds Alice propped up against the filing cabinet in the back room wrapped up in Patricks leather jacket. The bandage on her arm is soaked through with blood as she checks her pulse, finds that her heartbeat is erratic at best. Her skin is clammy and pale despite the heat that she's giving off; the fever had well and truly taken over. Cal knows what will happen next. She knows what they need to do but this is Alice. Alice who she's spent the last 4 years on residency with, Alice whose family had welcomed her into their own with wide open arms.

So she sits down by her side, takes her small clammy hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze to let her know that she's there. It's silent save for Alice's gasping rattling breath _in and out, in and out_. Picks up the small rag to wipe the sweat from her brow. She wishes she can do more. She wishes that she could ease her pain. She has a full bottle of Vicodin in her bag, but she knows that if she gives her any it would be nothing but a waste. This disease, virus, whatever the hell it was, just burnt through any pain meds, any antibiotics. Didn't even make a dent.

"Promise me that you'll take good care of her. Please Cal, she's just a little girl." Alice's voice is raspy, her eyes are now open, but the familiar warm grey eyes of hers are glazed and Cal knows that it won't be long. She glances over at Patrick, who's hovering near the door way. Watches as Lottie make her way towards the rest room catches Patricks gaze and sees the unshed tears glistening from his blue eyes.

"I promise Alice." Alice grasps onto her hand as strong as she can, "I'll, _we'll_ .. " She stops looking towards Patrick. "We'll both look after her. As though she were our own."

Alice smiles at her then. "Ya know, I always had a good feelin' bout the two of you. Thank y-" Alice's thanks however was cut sure by a blood curdling scream. A scream that sets her hair standing up on end.

A scream that she knows all too well.

"Lottie!" She calls out, her heart now in her throat she stumbles trying to stand up. Knife gripped tightly in her hand as she spies Lottie running towards them. A pair of biters hot on her heels. Time slows down as the biter closest to Lottie grabs her arm and Lottie shrieks as she gets pulled back. Cal doesn't know if it's her cry for help or the look of absolute terror on her small face but suddenly, just like that, time speeds back up and then they're swarmed.

Alice is wailing and Patrick is suddenly in front of her shooting at everything undead fucker there was. The noise is disorientating and when she feels the hand of biter on her arm Cal doesn't think, she just reacts. A kick to the knee and a stab to the head and then she's moving forward, moving through them. Stabbing, slicing, hacking. She's trying with all her might to get to Lottie, but biters are everywhere.

Alice is still wailing and Patrick is still shooting and yelling and crying. The groans of the dead and the smell of gunpowder, of blood and metal hangs heavily in the air.

She's almost there, almost.

Pulls the thing off of Lottie with a stab to the head but Lottie, Lottie's just staring up at her. There's blood everywhere, on the floor, on her clothes, in her mouth. Little Lottie, crying, screeching as blood dribbles down over her chin. Big fat tears pouring down her face. Little Lottie who's trying to move, trying to get up.

Little Lottie who's insides are now on the outside.

"Lottie...?" Alice screeches out, crying, as she tries to stand up but her own body is failing her. So she's crawling over to them on her hands and knees. Crying out in pain with every movement that she makes.

"Callie...?" Cal falls to her knees hands hovering in front of her. She doesn't know what to think or do. "I don' know. I.."

"Cal?" Patricks warm bloody hand on her shoulder.

"Shh, shh. It's alright. Just stay still, ya gonna be fine, Lottie. Jus' fine. Jus' stay still, ya hear me." She swallows down the sob in her throat.

"Callie...?"

"Callie can you hear me?"

 _"Cal..?"_ She jerks awake at a hand on her shoulder, feels her hand connect heavily with someone's mouth, "Sumabitch" She hears them curse as they stagger away. Opens her eyes to find what appears to be Rick hovering over her but she isn't sure why.

"Easy, easy..." His hand is resting on her shoulder as she goes to sit up. The world swims before her eyes and suddenly before she can think about stopping herself she's throwing up all over T-Dogs shoes.

"You have gotta be kiddin' me."

-TWD-

"He's alive."

Her tongue feels thick in her mouth and she tries to keep her eyes on Daryl but it doesn't quite help that every time he moves she sees double of him. She still feels sick, tries to quell the wave of nausea by placing her head between her knees and taking a deep breath. She knows she has concussion.

" 'e was last I saw him, ya know just before he hit me with that fuckin' rifle." She breathes in through her nose out through her mouth. Tries to stop the lurching in her stomach. Misses the looks shared among the group.

"They didn't say anything else? Cal look at me, this is important." Rick is now kneeling in front of her now.

"Don't you think I know that?" She snaps back at him. She doesn't need him talking to her like she was a child. She knows how important it is. She just can't bring herself to acknowledge that she'd been left, no that they'd been left. That Jed had left her for Merle. To help Merle ...what kill innocent people? That just didn't sit right with her. That wasn't the Jed she knew.

"They didn't say anything to me alright." _Liar_. Her mind whispers to her. "Not about what they were gonna do. Merle, he -" _Just tell them what you heard._ "- He asked where you and Daryl were. Said he couldn't wait to see the looks on your face and then clocked me one. That's it."

It's Daryl who says it first, that he knows just by the small pieces of information that Cal has given them . He knows what his brother is planning.

"He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp."

"Then we best get moving. You good?" Rick asks her and Cal nods, though really wishes that she hadn't when stars are suddenly exploding behind her eyelids. "Yeah, I'll be fine." Looks towards her empty medical kit and wishes that she'd just left Merle to fuckin' die.

"You sure..?" Rick is looking down at her, with a look on his face that she can't quite place. It's not a look of pity no. It's something else but she's just too disorientated to work out what that is.

"Positive, I know I'm a shoddy patient but I do know my limits." She says, but even she knows that a run back to camp is going to severely push those limits. There must be something in her facial expression that isn't fooling the good deputy because he's still looking her with the same goddamn expression. It's the expression she realises that she used to have back in the ER. The one she used when she had bad news but wasn't quite sure how to break it.

"Is this where you say trust me I'm a doctor?" Rick grins at her and Cal has to snort. She takes a tentative prod to her head and cringes at the pain resonating.

"Somethin' like that..." She goes to stand, feels a little unsteady on her legs but knows that this going to be painful. In more ways than one. She has no other option though. If Merle and Jed were back at the camp, there's no telling what vengeance was being wrought.

-TWD-

They're almost back at the camp when they hear the first screams and gunshots up ahead.

"Oh my god...!"

"Go, go!"

She keeps on running, tries to keep up with the group. Doesn't stop even though she feels if she takes another step she'll keel right on over. It's the screaming that does it, that spurns her on. Screams echoing everywhere.

The camp is in chaos by the time she gets there, but this isn't the work of Merle, no. There's a swarm of walkers overrunning the camp. She tries to differentiate between the walkers and the rest of the group but in in the inky darkness it's proving difficult. She spots the kids squatting behind Lori and Shane as they're making their way towards to RV.

Shane is screaming at them, shouting at them, she thinks he tells them to make there way up the RV but can't quite make it out over the deafening sounds of gunshots, screams and the groaning of the dead. She's moving forward, the grip on her knife tight as she brings it down on yet another walkers head. It's the screaming she thinks that's always the worst.

Suddenly, its quiet. The final shot of a gun. Just like that it's all over, her hunting knife and hands slick with blood.

The camp is eerily quiet save for the sounds of sobbing. Bodies litter the ground, mostly walkers but not all. Others, who just the other morning she'd shared a joke with over breakfast. Like Jake who's guts had been yanked out of his body by a rotting hand.

"No. No, No!" Andrea is wailing, next to Amy who's gasping out her final breaths. "I don't know what to do. What do I do..? _Amy?_ My Amy. I don't know what to do."

She's not quite sure where to go, what she should be doing, ends up staggering over to the campfire, breathes in deeply. Tries to breath through the sudden nausea. Jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder and Dale who's looking down at her with those kind eyes of his.

At that point Cal can't quite help the tears that spring to her eyes.

"Come on now. Let's get you sorted."

Just as Andrea's cries pierce the night air, heart wrenching sobs that make Cal's insides twist up.

Makes her heart ache.


	6. Chapter 6

And at night I don't go out too far  
Blinded eyes and blinking stars  
For the thing that I hold true  
It ain't just the dark it's the dark in you.

 **\- Grim Ranger. Lungs and Limbs.**

Andrea's been holding vigil with Amy all night.

Hasn't moved from her side. Not once, not since those first heart wrenching sobs of hers as she'd rushed to Amy's side, only to watch unable to save her little sister as she does in her arms.

It's probably the longest time that Cal can ever remember seeing someone not turning from a bite yet. It's strange and worrying.

More worrying than Andrea just simply sat staring at her sister in silence. Completely oblivious to the events that are transpiring around her. Oblivious to the scared tearful voices and hushed conversations going on around her. Oblivious to the eerie silence that now prevailed.

After all the noise and chaos and death it was disturbing at how quiet the camp actually was. Cal had always hated the quiet, had done long before the end of the world. She hated the false sense of security that it portrayed. Those feelings of calm and safety. Hated how the silence made her think.

The previous days events on repeat, going round and round. The noise in her head growing ever louder.

 _Stupid. Stupid. You should have done something more Cal._

But she can't do anything, not now. All she can do is sit and wait and watch Andrea from across the camp. Andrea whose only focus is her sister. Andrea who is holding Amy's hand as she smoothes down her hair like one would a sleeping child.

It's an image that will be forever engrained into her memory.

Cal has nothing that she can say to Andrea to help ease the pain that she's going through. Doesn't if she wants to be able to deal with a woman whose sister had died in her arms. All those years at medical school and working in the ER hadn't prepared her for this. Then again how could anything from her old life have helped her prepare for this. Help prepare her to comfort a woman whose only remaining family had been torn apart by the dead in front of her.

Ripped up and torn apart and left in the dirt.

Ripped up and torn apart and left in the dirt because of Merle.

Ripped up and torn apart and left in the dirt because she wasn't quick enough to stop him.

No, to stop _them_.

The others are either sat or stood around her deep in discussion as to how they're going to _'deal'_ with Amy. Cal tries to her best to keep out of the conversation buzzing over her head, to avoid those questioning gazes aimed in her direction but when her own thoughts quieten down she can't help catch their eyes or tune into the odd sentence now and again like static on an old transit radio.

 _"She's been there all night."_ Lori calmly says. The older brunette's arms are folded across the top of her knees and Cal looks at her from her peripheral vision as Lori attentions is drawn towards the two blondes _. "What do we do?"_

Andrea who's just staring at Amy as though she can't quite believe that this has happened and if it were to happen it would never happen to her. _She's in shock._ It makes the lump in Cal's throat ever bigger.

 _"Can't just leave Amy like that. We need to deal_ _with it. Same as the others."_

Cal wants to interject and tell Shane that Amy isn't an _it,_ that she isn't like the others. That Amy didn't deserve to just to be _dealt_ with. Amy was the sweet kid who had showed her round camp and tried to make her feel welcome. Amy deserved better than to end up like she did.

She shifts slightly, the folding chair creaks with the shift of her weight and notices that her blanket, the one that Dale had given to her last night has somehow become twisted around her feet.

The sun is burning down, but Cal can't ever remember feeling as cold as she does right then.

She blinks back tears as she tries to focus on anything other than Andrea and Amy, but all around her are reminders of the devastation of previous night.

A pile of walkers near the RV steadily increasing in size as Glenn, T-Dog and Morales help throw another body on top. A fire burning just to the right of pile. The flames are raging ever higher, licking at the blackened twisted shapes of limbs. Smoke wafts lazily over the camp. The smell of burning flesh makes her nose wrinkle. It has such a unique smell, acrid, moist in your nose with a hint of earth and bubbling fat. It doesn't smell like meat, there's a fog of humanity to it. You know it is human and it is haunting.

She feels like she's going to be sick.

 _"I'll tell her how it is."_

Cal watches Rick go, gnawing on her lip, the sinking feeling growing ever bigger in her stomach as Rick is met with a gun to his face. She can't hear what Andrea says to make him back off but he does.

So she sits there and tries not to look at Andrea and Amy. Tries to ignore the conversation buzzing around above her head.

Can't help it when her tired eyes land on them once more.

Can't help but wish that this had ended up differently.

Can't help but think that this. _This_ right here was her fault.

* * *

Six hours earlier.

"Come on. Let's get you sorted."

Dale's hand is warm and comforting as he leads her gently away from the RV. She doesn't know quite where is he leading her until he's all but forcing her to sit down in a folding chair next to the fire. There's this noise in her head as she looks around camp that is drowning everything out. A large piercing ring, like a bad case of tinnitus; muting out Dale's voice and Andrea's cries for her sister. Silencing the noise of Carl crying, clinging onto his Daddy. Or the sounds of gunshots as Shane fires the bullet into a not quite dead walker.

Cal places her head between her knees, closing her eyes to try and blot out the scene. She so desperately wants to go to sleep even has this stupid false hope that when she wakes up this will have all been some horrific dream. That when she opens her eyes, she'll wake up in her apartment back in her own bed, to the smell of Jasmine and the scent of breakfast wafting through her bedroom door, listening to Patrick in the kitchen signing loudly and off key to whatever pop song was blaring from the radio. But this wasn't a dream, life doesn't work that way and as she lifts her head up she can see Dale stood off to the side of her, in the corner of her peripheral vision, contemplation and worry etched onto his face. Before he turns and walks back towards his RV just as the children are being lead towards the vehicle. All of them clingy and crying, cuddled into their parents sides. Their parents shielding them the best that they can to the gruesome sights littering the campsite. Cal thinks it's a little too late to shield their eyes now. The damage already having been done.

All of them except one.

Cal hasn't realised that she's focused in on Sophia, until she finds herself half standing to see why the youngster has suddenly stopped walking. Sophia who isn't cuddling into her or holding onto her hand. Sophia who's just stood staring at something at on the edge of camp. Cal finds herself peering out across the darkness of the camp before finally resting on the Peletier's tent and Ed's torn up bloody body that has been half dragged outside.

Cal finds herself sucking in a large breath at the grisly sight that's she greeted with. She's expecting the young girl to cry or scream but the kid does neither her face blank, devoid of any emotion. The brunette isn't sure whether Sophia is comprehending what has happened or is happening, but she expects more of a reaction than what she's showing. Carol though is crying at the sight of her dead husband and she's trying fruitlessly to pull her little girl away but Sophia doesn't want to move, ends up simply shrugging her hand out of her Mom's grip. Moves forward some more only to stop a foot away from the ripped up body of the man she called Dad.

It isn't until Lori comes outside, noticing what Sophia is looking at moves hurriedly towards the pair. Wraps a comforting arm around Sophia's shoulders turning her head away from the view of her Dad. Only then does Sophia finally allow herself to be moved. Turns her head one more to look back at her Dad and then her Mom who hasn't followed her daughter. Her Mom who seems to be collapsing in on herself, arms wrapping themselves protectively as though toward off the reality that she now faces before the kid disappears inside the RV with Miranda and Lori.

-TWD-

Cal doesn't know quite what to expect when she notices Carol making her way over to her sometime later.

She doesn't expect the hesitant smile thrown her way as she ventures closer, wiping her nose on the corner end of her sleeve. Eyes swollen, red and puffy from crying and she's holding onto a first aid kit like it's a life line.

"I came to see to your eye?" Carols questions her. "Dale said it looks like it will need stitches. I tried to find some thread but this.." She holds up what appears to be a length of fishing line "..is all I could find" Carol who has just lost her husband and the Father of her child. Meek Carol who is now offering her help. The wound above her eye forgotten is suddenly rearing it ugly head and throbbing something fierce. There's a pounding settling behind her eyes that matches each beat of her heart. Feels as though her head will split open.

She can't deal with this, whatever _this_ is right now. She doesn't have it in her, deep inside her she knows that to be wrong, selfish even.

"It's ok Carol. I – It's fine."

"It's not. I can help. That is if you-" She pauses hands still gripping the first aid kit tightly. So tight that her knuckles are turning white as Sophia's voice calls out in the night. Calls out to her Mama. Lori, she can hear is trying her best to calm the young girl but when she calls from her Mom again.

"It's fine Carol. Go be with your daughter." Offers her an understanding smile as she gently tugs the kit from the older woman's hands. Sophia needs her far more than she does. Far more than she deserves. Feels what should be comforting squeeze on her shoulder as Carol walks past before disappearing into the darkness of the RV. Leaving Cal alone with her thoughts once more.

She isn't quite sure how long she's been sat there before she finally stands and hobbles towards the RV. Long enough to see Shane, Rick, T-Dog and Glenn going out into the woods to do a sweep of the area. Long enough to see the change of guard from Dale to Daryl on top of the RV.

Long enough for Morales to rebuild the fire, hesitating as she catches his eye. Long enough for him to open his mouth, before stopping, shaking his head and then going back on his way.

Stands outside the entrance for a moment trying to compose herself. Stepping inside she hears the soothing voice of Carol trying to coach her daughter to sleep. Can hear humming a lullaby to Carl who's head is resting in her lap, letting out the occasional whimper as he's slowly drifting off.

She pauses; taking in the scene. Catching Lori's eye as she looks up from her son towards the younger woman. Cal who suddenly feels like she's intruding quickly hurries towards the bathroom. Closes the folding door behind her. Shutting out the world.

Sits down on the toilet seat as she lets out a breath that she hadn't realised she been holding. Her eyes glance towards the as lantern perched on the small shelf underneath the mirror, places the metal aid kit just underneath. The needle and fishing line are clasped in shaking hands as she stands to look at herself in the mirror. Let's out a startled cry at the sound of the first aid kit falling into the porcelain sink and the deafening sound it creates. There's a hesitant knock on the door, Lori asking her if she's alright.

"'m fine." There's a pregnant pause outside the door and Cal find herself unknowingly holding in her breath before she hears the gentle footsteps venturing away from the bathroom door.

Looks back her image staring back at her. Her left pupil is blown, the bruising around her eyes and eyebrow dark varying shades of blacks and purples. The skin on her eyebrow is split open, the wound at least 4cm in length and deep with a profound bump forming underneath. It's not stopped bleeding but close enough. Drying tacky blood that's in her hair and down her face, soaking into the blue plaid shirt that she'd been giving that very morning.

Has to steady herself as the burning of the peroxide as she cleans out the wound, grips the sink so as to not fall over. Tears spilling over her cheeks. It's just the peroxide. Burns like a sonovabitch. She isn't crying. She doesn't deserve to cry.

Disinfects the needles, takes a slow deep breath before placing a cloth between her teeth. Pulls the split skin together with the thumb and forefinger of her right hand as she pushes the needle through to two flaps of skin. Stars burst behind her eye lids as she bites down hard enough to stop herself crying out. Hard enough that she can hear her jaw crack. She has to do this. Pulls the thread tight but not too tight before pushing it through the other flap of skin for another stitch. She has to. She doesn't deserve help. Another stitch. Deep breaths. Tears blinding. Battling down the urge to vomit and cry. Her hands are cramping at the final stitch. Legs like jelly.

It's a pain that she deserves and then some.

Slumps down onto the toilet when she's finished. Tries to keep it together before she completely falls apart.

-TWD-

She doesn't expect Rick to be sat at the table in the RV waiting for her when she stumbles out of the bathroom. When she finally worked up enough courage and strength to stand up and face reality. Whatever he had planned on saying stops as he takes a long look at her.

"You need me for somethin'?" She asks quietly mindful of the four sleeping children out back.

"Just checking to see that you're alright. Carol was concerned." Cal blinks back at him not quite sure what to say to that. Turns towards the bed, hearing the deep breathy breaths of all four kids now tucked away and sound asleep. No sign of Lori or Carol. _Concerned?_ Carol doesn't need to be concerned not about her. Her concern was misplaced.

"'m fine." She tries to smile at him but it comes across more a grimace. Cal can't help but feel that there's something else that he wants to say to her but he isn't sure how to broach the subject. Instead he tells her to sit down and take it easy.

"I'm fine Rick. I can help." She needs to help, she needs to keep busy. Keeping busy will quieten the noise in her head if only for a moment. She tries to move past him isn't sure whether its her unsteady legs or Ricks hand on her arm trying to hold her back "Cal." A shout of warning when she suddenly funds herself pitching forward out of the RV door.

Almost face planting the dirt except for a strong pair of arms now secured around her waist. "Easy." Looks up to be met with Daryl's signature scowl. Daryl who says nothing else to her before depositing her in the folding chair by the camp fire like a wayward child before stalking off towards his tent.

Cal watches as he goes. Doesn't notice Dale until he places a blanket around her shoulders and passes her a bottle of water along with another sympathetic gaze.

Looks down. Looks away.

Stares at the half eaten remains of dinner littering the floor.

The scuff marks in the dirt.

Swallows down the sob threatening to emerge as she wipes away the sting of tears. She can't cry, she doesn't deserve to. This was on her.

She should have known something was wrong.

The broken crockery.

She should have done something more.

The empty bullet casings and the pools of blood.

She should have stopped them. She should have known that something was quite right. Maybe if she had have been more vigilant then the group would have gotten back to the camp before the walkers had even overrun them, before anyone had been killed. If they had gotten back to camp earlier, maybe, just maybe, the group as a whole could have prevented this. Maybe the attack would never have happened.

Maybe.

* * *

"This on all a' ya. " Daryl's angry outbreak disturbs the quiet of the camp, makes her jump in her seat as she looks up and out across the group. Watches as the remainder of the group stop in their work with varying looks of displeasure etched across their faces at his harsh words. The group who is trying to pull together in the face of tragedy but there's underlying tension among them, simmering just beneath the surface waiting to boil over.

Cal can see it plainly on each of their faces. Shane is angry, stampeding around the camp bellowing out orders and commands just so he didn't have to think about the people that had been lost and the reasons as to why.

Glenn caught up in his own grief openly crying as he moves the bodies of walkers and friends alike. Shouting that they didn't burn their dead, they buried them. Carol who was making her own hatred known on the head of her husband repeatedly.

Rick who is scared hasn't left his families side and Daryl who is indignant in his brother's betrayal.

"Y'all left my brother for dead. You had this coming". Daryl all but growls out, eyes each of them with disgust before stalking away, bloodied pick axe slung over his shoulder.

Should she be like that? Does she want to be? Screaming and raging and cursing. Feeling the anger and bitterness pumping through her blood wrapping around her heart like barbed wire. _Maybe._

The wide fearful eyes of Carl and troubled expression gracing Dale's face as he follows after Daryl.

 _Maybe not._

She wants to feel something though. Something more than the feeling of utter emptiness and guilt eating away at her. Guilt as she watches Andrea who was now cradling Amy in her arms. Wiping her face with a wet cloth.

Merle.

She could hate Merle. She could do that, hell, she'd been doing it so long it was almost second nature to her, as natural as breathing. But hating Merle made her think of Jed. Jed who she wanted to yell and scream at him, punch him in that stupid grin of his and hold him accountable for his actions. and no matter what her brother did she didn't think she could ever truly hate him. Was she angry with him? Of course she was, but for all his faults he was still her brother and the only remaining family that she had left.

 _"A walker got him. A walker bit Jim."_

The silence that had prevailed in camp is broken by Jacqui's shout of alarm and then chaos descends once more. She watches as the group close ranks around Jim. Circling him, telling him and then shouting at Jim to show them the bite. Jim who's holding a shovel like a weapon trying to fend them away. Only then he isn't arms pinned behind him by T-Dog as Jim's bite is exposed. The ugly truth revealed in the harsh light of day.

The group who's now no longer looking at a friend. They're looking at him like he's a walker already. Deadly and dangerous.

"I'm ok."

"I'm ok." He's looking for someone to help him.

"I'm ok." His eyes pleading, even whilst he's holding onto the shovel like a weapon.

Cal doesn't remember making the conscious decision to move until she's suddenly stood right in front him. His voice soft and strangely calm.

"I'm ok."

* * *

The bite is gruesome looking around 5cms wide and 1/2 an inch deep protruding from the skin over the left side of Jim's ribs.

Cal is kneeling in front of Jim who is now perched on an upturned bucket as she wipes away the congealed blood around the wound. Notices the streak of pink tinged puss and the darkened area around the bite. The body trying to fight off the infection but this isn't a nasty bout of flu or an infected cut. This was something more deadly, something that she knows ultimately is a lost cause. She has never seen anyone survive a bite.

Jim has no chance and by the look in his eyes; he knows that too. He's resigned to his fate already.

She wraps a sterile bandage around his ribs anyways, feels a pang of guilt as he stifles back another groan of pain. His skin is hot to the touch but Cal isn't sure whether its due to the outside temperature courtesy of the blazing Georgian sun or whether the fever is taking a hold already.

"I'm ok. You know that right? I'm ok." He says as she goes to stand up and Cal places a reassuring hand on his shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know Jim. I know. You just – you just sit tight, take it easy." She knows the words sound empty and meaningless but she can't quite keep the look of surprise off her face as he unexpectedly takes a hold of her hand on his shoulder, gives her a gentle pat as she goes to join the group.

"He's a sick, sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

Cal can hear the heated discussion as she makes her way towards to group. Knows that Jim can hear every single word they're saying. Makes her blood boil. Talking as though the poor man is dead already.

"The lines pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be."

Like vultures picking at a carcass. Where was their decency or decorum?

"How's he doing?" Rick asks her as she steps into the small circle.

"How do you think he's doing?" Shane answers and she can't help but level a glare in his direction. Wipes the sweat from her brow. The air is stifling and it's not just the heat from the sun. The atmosphere is tense and charged makes it difficult to breath.

"As well as can be expected." She says resigned. Leaves the words open to interpretation. _For someone who's going to die._

"What if, what if we can get Jim some help." Rick asks whether to her or the group she isn't quite sure.

"There ain't no help for that." Daryl speaks up at the same time as Shane who replies "We never seen anyone survive a bite before. You just said that."

"There a cure?" Daryl asks Cal the full weight of his gaze makes her stand up straight.

Rick shifts his stance opens his mouth to answer.

"Weren't asking you." Daryl stops Rick in his tracks, "Was askin' the Doc. There a cure?" He's looking right at her and it takes everything ounce of strength she has not to look away. It's a loaded question.

"There was a rumour. About the CDC." Cal answers running a shaky hand through her hair. She knows that it isn't what Daryl has asked but she doesn't know how to answer him. Give them the truth and say that she doesn't know if there is a cure what little hope the group or lie. Then again what was one more lie to that ever growing list of hers?

"I heard that too." Shane retorts voice thick and full of derision. "Shit, I heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."

"And if the CDC is up and running?" Rick asks him.

"That right there is a stretch in itself." Another pointed look between the two.

"Why?" Rick questions the group as though it is so hard to believe that the CDC wouldn't be still running. He wants to believe it, Cal can see how desperately he wants this to be true. Not for himself, but for Jim, for his Family. He want's them all to be safe. "If there's any government – any structure at all, they'd protect the CDC at all costs. They'd be working on a cure. Right. Shelter, protection, a- a rescue."

"Look man you want those things alright. I do too, now, if they exist there at the Army Base. Fort Benning. That's our safest option."

"Your safest option it's at least a 100 miles in the opposite direction." Lori states speaking directly to Shane. "That's a big risk."

"That's right, it's a risk but its away from the hot zone. Now, if that place is operational it will be heavily armed. We'd be safe there."

"If is a mighty big word. Is that enough to place the safety of the group on line?" Cal asks Shane pondering his proposal. " We were in Atlanta. That was supposed to be safe too. Until it wasn't. The military. " Her voice cracks at that as she remembers, "The military were on the front line and they got overrun. What's to say the same hasn't happened at Fort Benning? It only takes one bite or a scratch and the whole place is overrun..." Cal trails off as both Rick and Shane continue to speak.

"Fort Benning is the only viable option. I get that people are scared.."

"The CDC is our best shot and Jim's only chance." Rick throws out with finality.

"The CDC is on the outskirts of Atlanta it's not in city limits." Dale reasons with the group, siding with Rick "It's worth a shot. Cal?" Cal's attention however is no longer on the discussion at hand but on Daryl. Daryl who keeps looking back at Jim, then back at the group, then back at Jim. She can almost see the cogs turning around in his head.

"Hell, you go look for aspirin. Do whatcha gotta do. Someone here needs to have the balls to take care of the problem." Daryl who's rushing over to Jim pick axe raised.

Until he's not. Rick is stood behind him gun raised at Daryl's head.

"We don't kill the living."

"Funny, comin' from a guy holding a gun to my head."

Rick bundles Jim towards the RV as Daryl throws his pick axe down in disgust before storming away. Things are escalating, the dynamic in the group changing drastically. It's how things start falling apart.

She needs to think, to breathe.

She needs space, turning on foot she finds herself walking down to the quarry, away from the chaos and questioning gazes.

She needs to clear the noise in her head.

She can't be a witness to another group destroying itself.

-TWD-

Cal's surprised to find Sophia down at the quarry lake, alone. She looks around for Carol but she cannot see the elder woman anywhere in visible view and that makes her frown. She has to wonder why the girl isn't with the other children or under the ever watchful eye of Lori. Wonders how long the girl has been sat on her own or why no one has ventured to find her.

Sophia pauses what she's doing for a moment as Cal sits down next to her. When Cal doesn't say anything she throws another stone into the lake, a loud plop disturbs the silence that is settling between them.

"Hey kid, your Mom know your down here?" She questions the young girl. Doesn't expect Sophia to answers or even acknowledge that she's spoken to her. The kid had barely said anything more than a softly uttered hello or offered more than a shy smile her way since she'd been at the camp. Doesn't expect the shrug as an answer back.

"She'll be worried if she can't see you. You know that right?"

"I know." Sophia replies as another stone plops into the lake. Cal watches Sophia picks another stone from the beach, her thin arm lobbying back before the stone is released. It skims the water once before plopping into the depths below, the girl smiles a small smile before going to grab another stone.

A young girl on the verge of becoming a teenager, on the verge of becoming a little woman. Cal knows just how confusing those formative years are. They sit in silence for a moment more, Cal listing to the lapping of the water and the chirp of the cicadas. Of Sophia skimming another stone across the lake. Tilts her head back, eyes closed as the breeze from the water cooling her flushed sweaty face.

Calm and peaceful. One could almost pretend that the group wasn't on the verge of a massive cluster fuck, she thinks.

"Everyone keeps telling me that they're sorry about my Dad." Sophia says hesitantly as she throws another stone into the water. Cal glances to her right, as Sophia avoids the older woman's gaze. Cal isn't rightly sure what to say to that, she's never been good at offering words of advice. She'd always been about the cold hard facts of the case, to be able to disengage herself from the emotional impact.

So Cal doesn't know what to say to Sophia. Finds herself out of her depth, for there wasn't any science or medical jargon that could help her talk to a kid who's just lost her Dad. Has to wonder if this is the first time that Sophia has ever lost someone close to her.

"It's what happens when someone you love dies Sophia. People offer their condolences..."

"I get that. When Nonna Marie died. I cried loads, she was really nice and gave me sweets whenever we came to visit even if Dad told her not to. She gave the best hugs too. Everyone said that they were sorry when she died too."

"Well, there you ..." Only to be interrupted.

"I don't get why people are sorry for my Dad dying though. He wasn't nice, he never gave me sweets. He made Mom cry, made her unhappy. He was mean. He hurt me and Mom... I don't understand how people are sorry that he's dead when..." She trails off unsure whether she should continue.

"When...?" A gentle nudge of encouragement.

"When I'm not." She says after some thought.

"Look Kid..."

"I'm not a kid. I'm 12 years old. You don't need to talk to me like I'm a kid. I know he was a bastard..." Cal can't quite keep the look of surprise off her face. Hell she knew exactly what a bastard Ed was, but to hear it from his own 12 year old daughter. That wasn't something she expected to hear, what was the expression though? From the mouth of babes?

"Where'd you hear that word?"

"Shane." Sophia replies with another shrug, offering no further need of an explanation. Shane of course. That man said what he thought before taking stock of the situation before taking into consideration who was listening at that moment.

"Listen Sophia, don't listen to what Shane says about your Father..."

"Why not?" She interrupts, "He was the only one who helped when Dad was hurting Mom. He was the only one who stepped in. Everyone else just let it happen." Sophia who's talking about Shane with adulation in her eyes. Defending the man. To her he was her knight in shining armour. Cal has to pinch the the bridge of her nose.

"He was a bastard and I'm glad he's dead. Cos that means he can't ever hurt Mom or me again. That means he can't ever touch me again..." Those words make the hair on the back of Cal neck stand upon end.

"I'm glad he's dead." She says with finality before she's racing up the embankment towards the sounds of Carol shouting her name. Leaving a trail of wet footprints in her wake.

* * *

It's Rick who comes and finds her later in the day.

He doesn't say anything at first. He's just stood there looking out across the lake. Cal is trying not to watch him but his presence is unsettling. Disturbing the little peace that she had finally managed to salvage out here. Away from the group.

"Shane blames me for not being here." He finally speaks out breaking the silence between them. Cal's eyes shift to her left taking in the good deputy. He's still not looking at her, his blue eyes firmly fixed on a point that she cannot see.

"Shane's blaming a lot of people." Is her only reply. She feels like she should say more. Maybe offer something more meaningful, offering words of comfort wasn't her strong suit and the sun is making the pounding in her head intensify that she can't think clearly.

"Where are you with all o' this?"

"Whatchu mean? You askin' if I blame you?" She's looking at him fully now eyes locked on his. There's something echoing behind his eyes that Cal can identify with. Someone who just like her would readily shoulder the burden if it meant others didn't have to. If it made life easier for them. Here was someone who listened to others and rationally made a decision. Someone Cal realises that you would want in your corner. " We all made that call. We all thought it right at the time."

"And now?"

She scoffs at that. "Doesn't matter what I think now. What's done is done. No point second guessing yourself."

A pregnant pause. "So what do you think?"

"About what?"

"Fort Benning or CDC?"

"You asking for my advice?"

"Another perspective I guess." He goes to sit down next to her. He's so close that she can feel the heat of his arm seeping into hers.

"I'm a doctor Rick, not a epidemiologist. If you're asking me if there's a cure..."

"I'm not. I just - I trust your judgement."

 _"Why?"_

"What?"

"Why do you trust me?" She scoffs at that. "Hell, you barely even know me."

"Cal..." She shrugs off the concern that she hears in his voice. He trusts her? Trusts her judgment. That was rich when she didn't even trust herself.

"You feel guilty, I get that but don't. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Like you said. We all made that decision to go." Cal seems to deflate at that. "This, what happened here that doesn't lay at anyone's door alone."

That wasn't what was eating Cal up. Consciously or not they both knew that.

"The CDC." She tells him after a moment. "I trust you Rick." And she did genuinely. Call it intuition. "A hell of a lot more than Shane."

Rick looks startled at her open honesty but there was no point in sugar coating how she felt about the man. She didn't trust him. Actions spoke louder than words is what her Papaw always said and what she'd see of Shane's actions so far. There was just something there that unsettled her. Something there that she couldn't trust.

"He means well."

"Yeah", She sighs out at that "They always do. They're the ones that usually get you killed." She watches his expression as that sinks in. She doesn't expect him to agree with her, maybe even argue, telling her what a good man his best friend is. Instead he gives her one solitary nod before turning to walk away.

Leaving her alone once again. The noise in her head has finally quietened down. It's funny she thinks, just the other day she had been stood in this exact spot thinking that maybe, just maybe things were finally looking up.

Can't help but jump at the sound of a gun shot echoing across camp. It can't be Jim, Rick wouldn't let anything happen to the man not whilst he still had hope that the man could be saved.

Looks at the boat tied up swaying in the gentle breeze.

 _Amy..._

* * *

"You're not coming?" Cal has to look away from the disappointment she can see reflecting back at her in Dales gaze. She's not sure why Dale is so focused on her being at the burial. Whatever the old mans reasoning she knows that she can't watch them bury their dead. She doesn't need to see their raw emotional grief. She doesn't need to see them mourn, to bear witness to what her brother had helped play a part in.

"Nah," she scuffs her boots in the dirt tries to shrugs off the wretchedness that she now feels. "Besides someone needs to keep an eye on Jim." She turns away from him, goes to step inside the RV. _Coward_. Her mind whispers to her. _You helped create this. You can at least go out there and confront what you've done_. She shakes that nagging thought away.

"Cal." He calls out to her but she doesn't turn to look at him. Knows that if she does she'll cave. Pauses halfway into the RV.

"Just leave it alone Dale. _Please."_ And with that she steps inside.

Jim isn't looking too good. He's sweaty and suffering chills, delirious. All in all he looks like shit.

"No, no, no" He mutters out jerking awake when she knocks on the entrance way to the bed announcing her presence.

"Hey Jim. How're ya doin'?" She cringes at how ridiculous that question is as she makes her way over to him sitting down on the edge of the bed. Goes to wet a rag to help cool his fevered brow. His eyes are now focused but there's confusion evident in his expression as to why she's there.

"You not going with the others?"

"Doesn't look like." Cal replies as she rinses out the rag. Jim is just staring, he's trying to figure something out and that makes her feel uneasy.

"You think you don't belong here?" He questions her. "You do you know."

"It ain't that." Cal answers back. It wasn't, she knows that she doesn't belong in the group. She hadn't been there long enough to become integrated or make those deep meaningful connections that everyone talks about. She'd been too ate up in her own drama, trying to reconnect with Jed and then rescuing Merle to actually do any of that. And now because of her poor decisions, a good decent man like Jim was paying the price. Slowly and painfully. She could see it etched into his face and it was only going to get worse.

"You think all o' this is because of you? Because of Jed?" Brown eyes meet green and Jim's face softens at her expression. "It ain't. The sooner you start believin' that-" He coughs, harsh rasping breaths as he spit a bloody mouthful into the bucket on the bedside. Cal wipes away the bloody spittle from his chin.

"- The sooner you'll feel part of this group." Jim's eyes close thoroughly exhausted. Cal rinses out the cloth. Wets it again placing the cloth across his forehead in a vain attempt of offering a small slither of relief.

"And what if I don't want to feel part of the group Jim? What if I don't deserve it?" She doesn't expect him to answer.

"Then you're on your own kid." Brown eyes open and Jim's moment of clarity is gone, "No one survives on there own. It's too late. The graves. It's there. Hands. Armies. Amy's there, swimming. Watch the mangroves. Those roots'll gouge the whole boat."

Places the wet cloth across his forehead.

Looks out of the window towards the hill and the small group of people paying their respects to their dead.

* * *

She's relieved by Carol and Rick about an hour or so later.

She checks Jim's breathing and pulse one more time before finally allowing herself to step out of the stifling RV only to walk into a rather heated discussion taking place between Shane and Lori.

"Folks around here can make up their own minds without bringing my marriage into it. That's a habit that you need to break."

"Well, I'll guess I'll just add it to the list of habits that I'm breaking."

Suddenly feels awkward for walking in on something that two days ago she had vowed to stay well clear of. As the pair turn their attention onto her, the looks on both Lori and Shane's faces, well she knows guilt when she sees it.

"What habits?" Rick asks the pair as he follows Cal outside. If Cal thought they'd looked guilty before it was nothing compared to the looks they both sported now and the 28 year old cannot move quick enough away from the atmosphere that she suddenly finds herself smack dab in the middle of.

She does not need to deal with any more drama than she already was doing. In the end she finds herself volunteering to walking with Dale on his sweep, in a rather fool hardy attempt of avoiding the beckoning gaze of one Lori Grimes.

Only to be cornered by her as she's refilling her water bottle.

"Look about what you just overheard.." Cal's shoulder slump as the older brunette approaches her. Sighs out loud as she screws the cap onto her bottle and turns to face Lori Grimes.

"Lori, I- you don't have to tell me anything. It really ain't any of my business."

"No, I know, I just need -. After Rick was shot, after the hospital..." Lori flounders unsure of how to say what she needs to say. "I thought he was dead. Hell, I had no reason to think that he wasn't. I don't expect you to understand. I mean, I took up with my husbands best friend. But-" She ringing her hands in front of her. "I just need to tell you. I need you to know that nothing is going on between me and Shane, not now." Cal goes to interrupt only to stop as Lori hold her hand up. "Please just let me finish. It finished when I - when Rick found us. He doesn't know. He can never know. It would break him Cal." Cal isn't deaf to Lori's hidden plea.

Finding out about Lori and Shane wouldn't just break Rick, it would kill him. Cal knows that.

"Like I said. This ain't any of my business. And I'm not in the business of breaking people's marriages up end of the world or no. Just..." She trails off, it wasn't her pace to say anything but then again, if she didn't who would?

"Just what?"

"Box that shit away. Do what you gotta do, before it gets someone killed." She turns making her way towards Dale who is waiting for her at the edge of camp. Doesn't turn back to see the stricken look upon Lori's face as she watches the group split up and disappear into the woods.

* * *

Cal ducks under a low hanging branch, eyes scanning their surroundings as her right hand rests on top of the knife strapped to her thigh.

She's taking in their environment, the tweeting of the birds, the cicadas and the sound of lapping water to the right of them. The woods are quiet, she doesn't expect any walkers to still be out here but it was better to be safe than sorry.

In the quiet she can't help but wonder about the brief conversations that she's just had with Lori and Sophia. Can't help but think about Jed, wondering where he was at. If he was ok. If he was still alive. The sound of Dale's heavy breathing just behind, distracts her from her thoughts.

"Everyone has been so caught up, I don't think I've asked you how you're doing?" Cal turns to face him gives a half hearted shrug.

"I'm fine. A knock to the head won't kill me just yet." She offers him a fake smile knows by the look on Dale's face that she's not convincing anyone. There's a snap of a twig up a head and Cal finds her hand tightening over the handle of her knife as Dale raises his rifle.

Before a rabbit runs out from the brush in front of them. The tense moment suddenly gone as Cal begins to lead once more.

"It's not doing anyone any good you withdrawing from the group." Whatever Cal expected him to say it wasn't that. Then again from their small interactions she knew that Dale wasn't one to beat around the bush either.

"This ain't my group Dale. These ain't my people."

"You really think that? That these aren't your people? You want to tell that to Jim or Rick or Sophia? Those people that you've helped without questioning why. You want to tell them they're not your group?"

Cal doesn't have a come back to that. "You may not see yourself as part of this group. But we see you as part of it. Don't throw what you have here away over misplaced guilt."

Cal has to scoff at that "Misplaced? There's nothing misplaced about my guilt Dale. Don't pretend that you know me Dale, because you don't." She bites out at him. Just who did the old man think he was? Telling her how to think or feel.

"You're right. I don't know you. Only what Jed has told me about you. But I would like to get to know you. You might think that you need to be on your own, that you deserve to be. But you don't, your place is here and if Jed were here he'd say the same thing."

 _Jed._ Everything lead back to him. One way or another.

"Were you close to him Dale?" Cal asks him as she scans up ahead, she doesn't want to get into an argument with Dale. Doesn't have the energy for a fight.

"As close as Jed would allow a person to be." Which Cal thinks, knowing Jed wasn't close at all. "Jed didn't really speak much to the group, but he could keep Merle in line for the most part when Daryl wasn't there." She makes a non committal noise at that.

"He was a good man. A decent man."

"A good man? You really believe that Dale?" She questions him with a measure of disbelief. "How does leaving the group stranded in a city full of walkers make him a good man? How does that make him a decent man?"

"Actions speak louder than words. Like you said Merle was hell bent on taking his vengeance back to camp. Maybe he did all of that to keep us safe and to keep Merle away from camp?" She ponders that, she hadn't thought about it from that perspective before. Too wrapped up in her own little bubble that she had never stood back to take stock of Jed's actions or the reasoning's behind them. Bite's the skin around her thumbnail.

"It's funny yah know. Growing up I couldn't wait to get away from it all. Home, my Family. I was always in a rush to grow up, to be someone, to do something. To make my mark on the world." She's not really looking at Dale but can see the look of encouragement on his aging face. "I was so busy trying to better myself. That it didn't matter that Jed and I no longer talked or if weeks or months passed without speaking to Grams and Papaw, because I knew that they'd be waiting. They always were. There was always a part of me that thought that we'd be able to make things right, that we'd...I dunno.. "

"Have more time?" Dale finishes for her. "Time is such a paltry thing after all."

"An old professor of mine once told me, that 'Time is a flat circle.' That anything that we've ever done or will do, we're gonna do over and over and over again." She looks around, before her gaze settles on Dale. "That's a scary thought huh? That this right here, that all of this, Amy being ripped apart, the group getting slaughtered. Jed leaving. The end of the goddamn world." She all but yells into the woods "That that this is going to continue again and again and again forever. How fucked up is that?"

"Be scared. You can't help that. But don't be afraid."

"Faulkner again?" She smiles at Dale before frowning at the sounds of raised voices coming from up ahead. The pair increase their pace they end up coming across Shane lining Rick up in the cross hairs of his rifle. "Jesus." Is all Dale says when Shane finally notices the two behind him.

Tries to laugh it off, but Cal catches that look in his eyes once again. "Thought he was a walker. I know we're all gonna have to start wearing reflective vests around here."

The second time in the day that Cal has walked in on something that she really wished she hadn't. Rick who tells them to head back to camp. Rick who was completely and totally unaware of what has just gone down. Unaware that Shane held the mans life in his hands once more.

Cal and Dale watch as they both leave ahead of them.

"That isn't going to end well. You do know that, _right?"_ She asks Dale, follows after the two officers, traipsing through the thick foliage.

She doesn't wait for a reply.


	7. Chapter 7

A very short chapter, but it serves a purpose :)

Run away  
I'll just run away  
like a child  
from all them to you  
And now I see  
my most constant mistake  
is I don't know what I love till its gone

Day is Gone - Noah Gundersen.

It's been decided that they're going to the CDC. For the good of the group. Is what Shane had said in that rousing speech of his. The good of the group. Cal had to stop her eye roll at that. If she and Dale hadn't interrupted, well _whatever_ the hell Shane had been contemplating doing in the woods then maybe she wouldn't have begun questioning Shane's sudden change of heart, when less than 12 hours ago he was hell bent on going to Fort Benning. Maybe if she hadn't have walked in on Shane lining his sights on Rick or overheard the angry short discussion between Lori and Shane she would have believed that heartfelt speech of his. Of how they all needed to stick together. How he trusted Rick's gut. That the man would never lead them into danger, that he would see them all safe and well.

It was so believable that Cal had almost forgotten what had transpired earlier. That Rick could very well be dead right now. The thought sends a cold shiver down her spine. She looks towards the pair deep in conversation, a map spread out in front of them planning the route. _Rick could be dead right now._

Rick who was bouncing off ideas with the man he classed as a brother, not realising just how close it came to Shane giving another speech, a different speech. Like a heartfelt eulogy of what a good upstanding man Rick was, how there was nothing he could do to save Rick other than to put him down. He tells them this whilst looking them all square in the eye, hell he may have thrown a few crocodile tears thrown in to boot and saying _"It's what Rick wanted"_ whilst Carl cries clinging onto Shane. His new Daddy.

He was convincing that was for sure. A damn good actor but then she catches how Shane is watching Rick. How he's looking at Lori and Carl when he thinks no one else is watching. He's looking at them like a man possessed. There's something eating away at him, scratching under the surface. Itching to be released.

There eyes catch. Shane kneeling near the camp fire and she stood leaning against the RV, stands a little straighter arms folded. She was never one to back down from a challenge and there was a challenge in his gaze.

 _"I see you." Is what her look says._

 _"I'm watching." Is his reply._

Both of them look away when their attention is drawn elsewhere. Carl is at Shane's side and Sophia is all but dragging Cal towards the group of women as they divvy out the jobs that need to be done in dismantling the camp.

-TWD-

Cal with the help of Sophia is helping the Morales pack away their meagre belongings in the back of their beat up car. She can't say she's that surprised that they've decided to leave. Leaving to find their family. to be with their own people. Can't fault them either for that had been her ill thought out plan when the pandemic had kicked off. She'd been at work, the ER overrun with the walking wounded. The never ending stream of people with chunks of flesh missing. At first she'd thought there'd been an attack, terrorist or animal. Can remember recoiling in horror when Andy one of the paramedics on duty had told her that this was the work of other people.

 _"People?" Cal had asked in disbelief, eyes widening in horror at the wound she's now looking at. Stomach ripped open and intestines torn out. The man is still alive though, pale and sweaty and moaning in pain._

 _"Yeah, Tash thinks maybe they've taken a bad patch of spice or somethin' I dunno, it's crazy out there. Never seen anything like it." Tash calls his name and he has to go, he's pressing the chart into her hands whilst he dashes away._

 _"Take care Andy." She calls out to him, a smirk followed by a quick salute and he disappears into the swarm of people in the waiting room._

By the time they realised just what was happening, the hospital was lost. She had managed to make it out just as the Army rolled in, clambering into her Volvo, mobile clutched tightly in her hand as she dialled and re-dialled Patrick's number, desperately praying that he would pick up.

Most of the streets are blocked either by crowds of people or by blockades, either police or man made. She has to abandon her car five blocks away from their apartment. _Keep your fucking shit together Cal._ Repeating it over and over. _Keep it together, keep it the fuck together_ whilst she dialled and re-dialled Patricks number. It doesn't connect, until it does.

Rick and Shane though are surprised by this revelation that the Morales were choosing to venture out on their own. It wasn't quite a guilt trip that she'd overheard between the two men but it had made Miranda think for a moment. Cal could see it on the Hispanic woman's face. "I have to do what is best for my Family." Javier had said to Shane instantly shutting the cop down. There was no argument to that. Just what could Shane say to convince him to stay?

Not a damn thing as far as Cal could see. Sophia passes her a couple of luke warm water bottles, like everything here Cal thinks. Warm and hot and unyielding as Cal places them into the trunk of the car. Little Sophia, who has been glued to her side ever since the Morales had made there announcement. Which is surprising given how close she and Eliza were, Sophia hadn't said much but Cal can see the _disappointment?_ No, disappointment wasn't the right word, _hurt?_ in Sophia's eyes. The young girls behaviour suggesting that she was actively avoiding her young friend. As a way to protect herself from the loss that she would feel? It was a treacherous world they were living in nowadays. Hard for an adult to comprehend, worse still for a child. Cal can't quite picture how she'd have been if this had have happened when she was a kid. Her Pa wouldn't have protected her that was for sure. If anything he probably would have left all his children to rot whilst he drank himself into oblivion. Cal frowns at the wayward thought of her Pa. Wonders if he's still alive. Wonders if he went to Grams and Papaws, but then thinks that Papaw would probably kill him if he ever did set foot back on the farm.

Cal doesn't mind Sophia's company, it's comforting even, having her own person shadow for the young girl helps keep some of the noise in her head quiet, watching out for the girls keeps her mind occupied and Carol doesn't complain as it's another set of eyes watching her Daughter. Cal had always seen herself lacking in that mothering instinct, so she can't help but find the irony in how many children seem to gravitate towards her. _Let's Hope Sophia doesn't end up like Lottie_. Her mind whispers to her and Cal starts at that with a sharp intake of air.

Sophia who looks at her worriedly as Daryl approaches. She doesn't notice or hear him at first until he's pretty much on top of her and that makes Cal worried that if he'd been a walker she'd be dead right now, but then thinks that this is Daryl, Daryl with his hunter like gait and quiet steps. A walker wouldn't mask their footsteps or be mindful as to where they were stepping. A walker was a walker, nothing but a sack of a dead person driven by a mindless instinct to feed.

Cal watches as Sophia skips away from her side, keeps her watchful eyes on her until she's wrapped in the arms of her Mom. She doesn't expect anything to happen to Sophia in the short distance between her and her Mom but it never hurt to be careful. After all, the group had thought Amy to be safe and look how that had turned out.

"Doc." She turns to him tries to keep the surprise off of her face that he had sought her out. If she has to think about it Cal could probably recount all the times he'd spoken to her on one hand alone since she's been at the camp. None of them overly unpleasant _no._ Just guarded. Just like him. So for him to actively seek her out. Something had to be wrong.

"You need me for somthin'?" She asks running her eyes over him, looking for any type of injury but she can't see any. Ends up squinting as the sun blinds her and has to shield her eyes with the palm of her hand.

"Nah, I'm good." He's holding out a back pack to her and Cal can't help but be confused. The expression evident on her face.

"Its Jed's. Figured you'd want it." He states offering the bag once more for her to take. Cal doesn't know what to say, figures a thank you won't be enough to convey how much this actually means to her but says it any ways.

"Yeah." Is Daryl's response gives her one more look before he turns to walk away.

"Hey." She calls out stopping him in his tracks, wets her lips as he turns to face her. She's not sure why she called out to him but there was something there when he turned to walk away from her that made the knot in her stomach tighten once more.

"You need help squaring shit away?" She asks looking towards the Dixon camp that had barely been touched since the meeting earlier that morning. They look at each other then. Daryl's calculating look at her offer of help. Trying to work out if there's some underlying motive. There isn't one.

A solitary nod is all it takes before she's moving to follow him ruffling Sophia's hair as she walks past, "Hey." The young girl exclaims in protest, batting Cal's hand away as the youngster goes to straightening her head band and smoothing down her hair. Causes Cal to smile, Carol to laugh and Sophia to scowl at her retreating back.

* * *

"He ain't dead. Neither of them." Daryl says to her as she begins rolling up one of the sleeping bags that she's pulled out of Merle's tent. Cal still her movements at the unexpected comment.

"I know." She whispers out to him, almost feels like he's telling her off. _Was she that transparent?_

"So don't you be thinking they are."

"I'm not." Cal replies looking at him directly. She tries to be firm in her response but even she's not sure that it comes across as convincing she wants it to be. Because in the small hours of the morning when the noise in her head gets too much, those little niggling doubts creep into her head. Whispering to her. Telling her that she's all alone, that she'd never see her brother again. That he left her to die and right now he's probably dead too. She throws the rolled up bag into the flat bed of the pick up truck a bit more vehemently than she means to. Just to the side of the Harley placed in the back.

"Yer taking the bike?"

"Yeah. Merle would have my hide if I left it behind. 'side's its more manoeuvrable in tight spots. "

"Good idea." Cal says swallowing thickly as she looks at the bike, sleek lines, the chrome of the handle bars and the inky black frame. It reminds her of Jed and his own Harley and the stupid biker club that both he and Merle had joined. Brings a lump in her throat.

"He ain't dead. So don't start thinking that he is." Daryl grinds out again as he slams the shelf to pick up truck up. Cal can't help but roll her eyes. Men and their dramatics, she thinks but then smiles because Daryl, Daryl with his limited words had managed to convince her that Jed and Merle were alive. Something that a few members of the group had been trying to do since the night before.

Follows Daryl back towards the group who's now gathering round and saying their goodbyes to the Morales. There's hugs and kisses and words of advice even a few tears from Lori and Carol. Cal can't say she won't miss the Morales she will but she can't pretend that she was that close to the small family of four either. _Then again Cal. When do you ever allow yourself to get close?_

"Take it easy Doc," Javier calls out clapping her heavily on the shoulder. Distracted by her wayward thoughts she stumbles under the weight, whilst Miranda pulls her into a big motherly hug as their children gather round.

"Be good kids..." She says ruffling Eliza and Louis' hair. The two of them, so small in such a harsh world, grey eyes glistening with unshed tears and snotty noses. "Listen to your parents. Be brave." Words of advice, more of an after thought really, because what Cal really wanted to say was for them not to die. Miranda smiles warmly at her as she leads her crying children away. Away from them and the safety of the group. Sophia is stood next to her, she can feel the heat off her body as she presses into Cal's hip, hugging the doll the one Eliza has just gifted to her close to her chest. All of them watching as the Morales clamber into their own vehicle. The one that was taking tout into the world on their own.

It's risky, that was for certain but then even the simplest tasks these days were risky. Least they can say they tried. She mumbles to herself. Gnawing on her thumbnail. She feels Sophia's warmth leaving her as she walks to her Mom who is beckoning her over and into the Cherokee that, she Rick, Lori and Carl would be taking to the CDC.

"Yah got a ride?" Daryl asks stood to the side of her. Cal shakes her head. She hadn't really thought that far ahead in which vehicle she would be riding in, always thought that it would be the RV, but Dale hasn't offered and the RV is fit to bursting as is. Looks at him quizzically whilst he rolls his eyes.

"Don't make me ask." Cal has to smile at his briskness of his tone. Swinging up both rucksacks from the dusty floor she follows closely behind, opens the passenger door, places them into the foothold of the pick up truck as she clambers into the sweltering heat of the cab.

"Christ, I think it's cooler outside." She grumbles out as she slams the door behind her. Doubts the truck has air conditioning as she can feel the sweat beading on her head already, trickling down her neck and has to roll down the window to try and escape the heat.

"Yah can always walk." A long hard glance from Daryl that Cal interprets as _'quit yer whinin''_ sighs as he starts the truck, following the slow procession down the uneven track towards to highway. Two beeps of the Morales horn as she watches their vehicle turn right whilst everyone else turns left. Watches the car disappear in the view of the wing mirror. Thinks that it will probably be the last she ever sees or hears of the Morales.

The procession picks up speed, a breeze wafting in through the open window which is a welcome relief. Arm dangling out of the window and eyes closed if she pretends she can almost make herself believe that she is on summer vacation, doing a road trip with Patrick. Lazy summer days filled with laughter and beer and good times. Doesn't realise that she's humming Lola until she hears a snort from Daryl.

"What?" She asks eyebrow raised questioning that stupid smirk on his face, as he's biting his thumbnail.

"Nothin.'"

There's something there in the look that they share, she's not quite sure what it is. It's not a look that says everything will be alright, or that they'll make it out alive it's something else, something deeper, something bordering fearful, something of the unknown. It should fill her with worry and doubt but it's strangely comforting.

The Shangri-Las flit through her head. _"Cause you can never go home anymore…"_ But that's alright. This new world may be cold and harsh and violent. But this right here is enough.

This is home for now.

Songs:  
Lola - The Kinks.  
Shangri-La's - I can never go home anymore


End file.
